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“Don’t you long fob the first day? ’’ Nancy asked . — Page 2 , 


.fS 


DOROTHY DAINTY’S 


NEW FRIENDS 


BY 

AMY BROOKS 


WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY THE AUTHOR 



BOSTON 

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. 


DOROTHY 

Trade- 

Registered in U. S. Patent Office 




Published, October, 1916 

Copyright, 1916, By Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co. 
All rights reserved 

DOROTHY DAINTY’S NEW FRIENDS 


OCT 16 1916 


1Ronvoo& press 

BERWICK & SMITH CO. 

NORWOOD, MASS. 

D. 8. A. 


©CU445!i(ll 


ILLUSTEATIONS 


“Don’t yon long for the first day?” 
Nancy asked (Page 2) . 


Frontispiece 


/ 


A 


FACING 

PAGE 


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hillside 12 


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Dorothy, on Romeo, waited for the guests to 
arrive 



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portiere 


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“Just think, you and Nancy will he away at 
school ! ” 

‘ ‘ Look there ! ’ ’ she cried 


162 

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CONTENTS 


CHAPTEE PAGE 

I Arabella’s ‘‘News” 1 

II The “First Day” 10 

III Cheating 33 

IV A Genuine Surprise 54 

V A Stolen Holiday 76 

VI Eavesdropping 95 

VII The Star op the Evening .... 121 

VIII Vera’s Visit 147 

IX Whom the Shoe Fits 166 

X Nancy’s Dream . 184 

XI The Fairy Play 204 

XII Anticipation 218 



DOROTHY DAINTY’S 
NEW FRIENDS 


CHAPTER I 

ARABELLA’S ‘‘NEWS” 

T he great gateway with its stone posts 
and massive wall stood boldly out in 
the sunshine, and just over the wall brilliant 
autumn blossoms were nodding and swaying 
in the soft breeze. 

Dorothy Dainty, and her dearest friend, 
Nancy Ferris, were talking of the pleasant 
friends that they already had, and the new 
faces that they would see when school 
opened. 

Nancy sat upon a ledge at the base of the 


1 


2 


DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


wall, Dorothy stood looking down at her. 

Don’t you long for the first day?” Nancy 
asked. 

‘‘No matter how many we meet at the new 
school, we shall love Mollie and Flossie and 
Eeginald just the same,” Dorothy said. 

“Of course,” agreed Nancy, “and we’ll 
try to like Arabella.” 

“Yes, we’ll try/^ Dorothy said, in a way 
that plainly told that she knew that the task 
was not easy to accomplish. 

“Arabella Correyville doesn’t do the queer 
things that she used to do, and that may 
make it easier,” she said. 

Nancy laughed outright. 

“She may do new things that will be 
queerer than anything she ever did before!” 
she said. 

“Oh, she couldn’t,” Dorothy said firmly, 
as if the thought were comforting. 


ARABELLA'S 


3 


^‘Well, nothing could be much queerer 
than the time that she hid in the attic just 
to see how much of a stir it would make if 
the news w^ent about Merrivale that she had 
disappeared!’’ 

^‘Here she comes now!” Nancy said, ‘‘and 
she’s walking just as she always does when 
she has something that she is just wild to 
tell.” 

It was true. 

Arabella, prim, old-fashioned Arabella, 
was walking along at an odd, switching pace, 
her chin held very high, her eyes looking far 
ahead, as if she did not realize that two of 
her friends were so near. 

She wished them to think that her mind 
was occupied with something of great im- 
portance. She hoped that they would call 
to her, ask her to stop, and question her. 
They did not, so she continued to walk until 


4 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 

she had barely passed them, when, as if with 
great surprise, she turned. 

‘^Oh, you there?’’ she said. ‘‘I’m glad I 
saw you for I’ve something great to tell.” 

She hurried toward them, and seated her- 
self beside Nancy, turning so that she could 
also see Dorothy, and know if she were sur- 
prised. 

“My cousin Leander is coming to stay 
with us this winter, and he’ll be here in time 
to go to school with me the first day. 

“He’s taller than I am, and he knows al- 
most everything. 

“They say there never was a boy as smart 
as he, in the town where he lives.” 

“How they will miss him!” cried a jolly 
voice, and Reginald Dean vaulted over the 
wall, landing squarely in front of Arabella, 
and staring at her with merry, laughing 
eyes. 


ARABELLA'S 5 

‘‘Who’ll miss him'?” she asked. “I’m 
sure I’ve no idea what you’re laughing at, 
Reginald Dean.” 

“I don’t suppose it is funny,” the boy re- 
plied, “but really, Arabella, if your cousin 
knows almost everything, the town he comes 
from will miss him, won’t it?” 

“Well, I’m not the only one who thinks 
him smart,” Arabella replied, “for Aunt 
Matilda heard Leander’s father say, ‘That 
boy will certainly be a great statesman,’ and 
his mother is sure he’ll be a college pro- 
fessor, at least.” 

“Well, school opens September first,” said 
Reginald, “and then we’ll all have a chance 
to show how brilliant we are.” 

“I’m going down-town,” said Arabella, 
and she hurried off along the avenue. 

One never knew if Arabella were offended, 
or whether, having told her bit of news, she 


6 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 

felt no further interest in those with whom 
she had been talking. 

‘^Say, girls! I’ve a bit of news, too!” 
said Reginald, ‘^and that is that Patricia 
Lavine wrote to one of the girls living over 
on the other side of Merrivale, and told 
her that she might come back here to school, 
but she rather thought she should go to Paris 
instead. 

^‘Wasn’t that just like Patricia? She’ll 
be here, you see if she isn’t, and she’ll be 
busy telling us how it was that she happened 
not to go to Paris.” 

^^Oh, I do wonder if we shall have to, — 
well, — be patient with Patricia this year?” 
Nancy said, ‘‘for really, it is hard to listen 
to—” 

“The yarns that she tells,” said Reginald, 
thus completing the sentence by saying what 
Nancy would not care to say. 


ARABELLA'S 


7 


suppose they are ‘yarns,’ ” Nancy said, 
laughing. 

“Perhaps she won’t come,” Dorothy said, 
as if trying to look on the cheerful side of 
the matter. 

“She will if we don’t want her to,” de- 
clared Reginald, “for Patricia is contrary, 
and I guess she knows that we are not aching 
to see her.” 

“Don’t you wonder what sort of boy Ara- 
bella’s cousin will be?” Dorothy asked. 

“I almost believe he’ll be queer,” said 
Nancy, “but I’m sure I ought not to say 
that. I haven’t seen him.” 

“You’ve seen Arabella, and if he’s a rela- 
tive of hers, it’s safe to say he’ll be freak- 
ish,” Reginald said. 

“And he may be nice,” said Dorothy, de- 
termined to say a pleasant word for the new 
schoolmate. 


8 


DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


Yes, Dorothy is right,” Nancy said, ‘‘we 
may be glad to know him, and we’ll try to 
like him.” 

Eeginald had a kind heart, but he was a 
lively lad, full of fun, and often would tease 
another, while not intending to hurt, or 
.grieve him. 

As he turned toward home, he whistled a 
lively tune, then clearly they heard the im- 
provised verse that he was singing: 

^‘Le-ander, oh, Le-ander, 

Down the street let us meander, 

For I never saw a gander 
Half so skinny as Leander.’’ 

‘ ‘ Reginald ! Reginald ! ’ ’ called Dorothy. 
“You mustn’t — I mean you oughtn’t to sing 
that.” 

“And you might be mistaken, for he truly 
might be fat,” cried Nancy, half laughing, 
yet trying to reprove. 


ARABELLA'S ^^NEWS^* 


9 


‘‘Oleander, oleander! 

Pretty boy, you raise my dander, 

Oh, no blossom could be grander 
Than my darling oleander/^ 

sang the roguish Eeginald. 

‘‘If he tells those funny verses to the other 
boys, and they remember them, Arabella’s 
cousin will hear them the moment he ap- 
pears at school,” said Nancy. 

“And hear them more than once,” Dor- 
othy said, “but Eeginald may forget them 
before school opens. 

Nancy made no reply. Both knew that 
Eeginald would be more than likely to re- 
member the verses, and to sing them until 
every one else knew them, too. 


CHAPTER II 

THE FIRST day’’ 

M ERRIVALB was a small place, pos- 
sessing much natural beauty. 

The park was a tract of land given for 
the purpose by a wealthy resident, and it 
had required but little time and effort to 
make it a beautiful spot. 

The river running through the center of 
Merrivale was another of its charms, and on 
the farther side of the town stood a fine 
grove. 

The Stone House claimed many other 
beautiful residences as neighbors, but on the 
opposite side of the town the houses were 

smaller, and the people who lived in them 
10 


TEE ^^FIRST DAY^^ 


11 


were sturdy, industrious people who were 
obliged to be content with homes that were 
neat and comfortable, rather than elegant. 

The children in that part of Merrivale 
had attended school in the next town, but 
those of the finer part of the town had had 
private instruction. 

During the summer a fine, large school- 
house had been built, and Mrs. Dainty had 
decided that it might be well for Dorothy 
and Nancy to try one season at the new 
school. 

^‘Why not let them meet pupils of all 
classes, and learn what it means to come in 
contact with many people of as many 
minds?’’ she had said to Mr. Dainty, and 
he had laughed, and consented. 

Molly Merton, Flossie Barnet, Reginald 
Dean, Katie Dean, Jack Tiverton, and in- 
deed all the boys and girls w^ho had always 


12 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


been such good friends, and many new ones 
whom, already, they were curious to meet, 
were to attend the new school. The first 
day found the merry neighbors of the ave- 
nue early on the way to school. 

Dorothy and Nancy hurried along, hoping 
to overtake Mollie and Flossie, but before 
they had reached Mollie ’s house, Arabella, 
accompanied by a lanky youth, joined them. 

She introduced him as her cousin, Leander 
Correyville, and he glanced shyly at the 
girls, greeted them with a voice that was 
hardly above a whisper, and then walked 
beside Arabella, listening to the conversa- 
tion, but saying never a word. 

As they approached a vacant lot, a gayly 
dressed young girl passed down over the hill- 
side. 

She was not looking in the direction in 
which she was going, but instead turned her 


THE FIRST DAY^^ 


13 


head as if she were expecting some one to 
overtake her. 

‘‘That’s Patricia Lavine!” cried Nancy, 
in surprise. 

“I knew she was coming to school to- 
day,” Arabella said. “I saw her yesterday, 
and she said that her folks had decided not 
to go to Paris. She told me why, but I’ve 
forgotten.” 

“Oh, never mind why,” called a saucy 
voice, and Reginald hurried past them, 
laughing as he went. 

Dorothy and Nancy wondered if he were 
laughing at Arabella’s speech, or at the mem- 
ory of the outrageous verses that he had 
sung on the day before. 

Certain it was that he glanced toward Le- 
ander, and his eyes twinkled with a mis- 
chievous light. 

“ Oh-00 !” said Nancy, under her breath. 


14 DOROTHY^S NEW FR1END)3 


but much to her relief, Reginald ran on to- 
ward the corner of a street, where he 
joined a group of boys, and soon was talking 
as excitedly as they. 

Patricia, hurrying as fast as her high heels 
would permit, now came eagerly toward 
them. 

“Hello, everybody!” she cried, gayly. 
“Oh, here you are, Arabella, and your 
cousin, too. I looked all the way for you. 
You said that you’d call for me this morn- 
ing. Did you oversleep?” 

“I didn’t, but Leander did, and I told him 
we’d have to rush if we were to have time 
to call for you, and Aunt Matilda said we 
had all we could do to get to school on time, 
without calling for any one. 

“She said she had her views about — ” 

“Oh, botheration!” said Patricia. “Are 


TEE ^^FIRST DAY^^ 


15 


you going to listen to her Aunt Matilda’s 
views, Leander*?” 

‘‘I d’n’ know,” the boy said slowly. 

‘^Good gracious! Why, I’m here board- 
ing with my aunt, but I don’t — My! 
That’s the first bell! Come on!” 

Every one knows what the first day in any 
school is like. 

The forenoon was occupied with deciding 
in which class each pupil should be placed, 
and the afternoon was nearly gone before 
the task was completed. 

There had been much more whispering 
than would be permitted on any other than 
the first day, and the boys and girls had 
hugely enjoyed that. 

Dorothy and Nancy sat side by side. 

Arabella was in front of Dorothy, and 
Katie Dean in front of Nancy. 


16 DOEOTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


Jack Tiverton sat just behind Dorothy and 
Eeginald had the seat back of Nancy. 

Two pupils proved very interesting to the 
others, and books were neglected. They 
were Patricia and Leander, side by side, in 
the front row. 

Jack pointed to the two, then passed a slip 
of paper to Eeginald. 

‘‘The front row is usually called the 
‘ninny row’; I guess Patricia and long-legs 
are well placed. What’s his name"?” 

Eeginald read the note and then laughed 
aloud. 

The ruler rapped on the teacher’s desk, 
caused both boys to assume an air of dignity, 
too intense to seem sincere. 

Patricia turned around in her seat to 
glance at those who sat behind her. 

A soft breeze came in at the open window. 

It was a warm, sunny day, but Patricia 


TEE ^^FIRST DAY^^ 


17 


gave an exaggerated shiver. She thought it 
fine to appear delicate. 

She raised her hand to ask if the window 
might be closed, but dropped it in her lap 
before the gesture was noticed. 

It had occurred to her that the teacher 
might refuse to close the window, and, in- 
stead, tell her to change her seat for another 
that was farther from the window. 

As that would take her farther from Le- 
ander, she decided to stop shivering, and 
remain where she was. 

Not a boy of those whom she already knew 
liked her. 

Who ever saw a boy who would be inter- 
ested in a girl that talked of nothing but 
dress, or the very great things that her fam- 
ily had done, or were now doing? 

The girls were wholly tired of her silly 
ways, while the boys made little effort to 


18 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 

conceal their amusement whenever she com- 
menced to boast. 

The new comer in the neighborhood, Le- 
ander Correyville, appeared to be neither 
pleased, nor displeased with Patricia. 

The other pupils had a deal of fun watch- 
ing her efforts to interest him. 

Leander either did not, or would not see 
her antics. 

He was rather a dull youth, and he ap- 
peared to be aware of the fact that greater 
things were expected of him, than he was 
capable of attaining. Parents, and grand- 
parents, had, from the time of his birth, be- 
lieved him to be a wonder, and Leander felt 
reasonably sure that they were right, but 
just what direction his meteoric career would 
take, or where he would land, was a puzzle 
to his slow mind. 

He fully realized that he was to make a 


THE FIRST DAY^^ 


19 


name for himself, and dimly he dreamed that 
when he was a few years older it would be 
a simple matter to choose a profession, and 
at once, shoot to the top, where, without half 
trying, he would dazzle all beholders. 

At recess, he seated himself on a ledge at 
the far end of the school yard, and appeared 
to be greatly interested in a book that he had 
brought from the schoolroom. The boys 
looked curiously at him, then resumed their 
game of ball. Evidently they thought him 
unsocial. 

The girls were greatly interested in some- 
thing that Flossie Barnet was telling, and 
they crowded around her to catch every 
word. 

‘^And Uncle Harry says that at the holi- 
days, Muriel will come for a visit,” she was 
saying. 

‘‘And we’ll coax her to tell us all about her 


20 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


study with the sculptor, and the beautiful 
things that she is modeling,’’ Dorothy said. 

^‘Well, I declare!” cried Patricia. 
you want to hear about that, I’m sure I 
don’t,” and she walked away to where Le- 
ander was sitting. 

The other girls looked the surprise that 
they felt. Patricia was always selfish, but 
this time, she seemed even more so than 
usual. Muriel Mordaunt had seemed so 
sweet-tempered when Dorothy and Nancy 
had first met her at Crestville where they 
were spending the summer, and so simple 
and unaffected when praised for the lovely 
figures that she had modeled in the damp 
sand, that both were delighted to learn that 
so soon they were to meet her again. 

Patricia never could bear to hear another 
praised, so she left the group of girls who 
were talking of Muriel, and, crossing the 


21 


TEE FIRST DAY^^ 

yard, seated herself on the ledge beside Le- 
ander. 

The boy seemed not to have noticed her 
arrival, and continued reading. Patricia 
did everything that she could think of to at- 
tract his attention. She took her hat off and 
put it on again ; she tied and untied the rib- 
bon at her belt. 

‘ ‘ Ahem ! Are you reading ? ’ ’ she asked at 
last. 

Leander slowly looked up from the page, 
can’t see why you asked that question,” 
he said slowly. 

‘‘Well, I didn’t know but you had gone to 
sleep,” Patricia said pertly, at the same time 
crowding a bit closer to Leander, and trying 
to look at the book that lay upon his knees. 

“Goodness !” she exclaimed, as she saw the 
title. “Do you understand that?'^ 

“Do I understand what? Wireless?” he 


22 


DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


asked slowly. ‘‘No, I don’t, but I’m trying 
to. I was just beginning to get an idea when 
you came along.” 

“You’re not very polite,” Patricia said, 
rising. 

Leander made no reply, but he thought 
that she was not polite, when she interrupted 
his reading. 

Patricia hurried over to where Arabella 
was standing. 

“Arabella Correyville, you told me your 
cousin was nice, and I think he’s horrid, but 
I mean to know him. P’raps when I do, 
I’ll like him.” 

Arabella stared at her stupidly for a mo- 
ment, then she said : 

“I guess you’ll have to get acquainted 
with him now, if you really want to know 
him, for Aunt Matilda has her views about 
him, and she says he’s bound to be great. 


23 


THE ‘^FIEST DAY^^ 

He might not want to know any of us 
then.” 

Patricia looked over her shoulder at the 
awkward figure bending over the big book. 

‘‘He doesn’t look much like it now,” she 
said, “but,” she added hopefully, “of course 
you never can tell.” 

The second week at school, and things were 
running smoothly. Dorothy and Nancy, 
Mollie and Flossie, Patricia and Arabella, 
not to mention Leander, the “queer youth,” 
were all well acquainted, and all, thus early 
in the term, had acquired new friends. 

Of the new faces, one stood out more 
clearly than that of any of her mates. 

It might have been her curling hair, or 
was it the twinkling eyes? Both, perhaps, 
but certain it was that there was a look in 
those eyes that made one glance again to 


24 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


learn if the girl really meant what she said, 
or if she were only joking. 

Her name was Therese Haughton, but 
‘^Tess” was what they called her. 

All the pupils liked her, but she seemed 
to prefer Dorothy and Nancy, and often 
after school, and on Saturdays she was a 
guest at the Stone House. She was full of 
fun, a lively friend, and she seemed always 
willing to play whatever game was chosen. 

‘^Does Tess Haughton invite you girls 
over to her housed’ Patricia asked, as they 
were on the way to school one afternoon. 

‘‘Why, — no,” Nancy said, to which Dor- 
othy quickly added: 

“Nancy meant to say she hasn’t yet.” 

“Hasn’t Patricia repeated, with an 
air of disgust. 

“This is the second week of school, and if 
she’s been to your house once, she has half a 


TEE ‘^FinST DAY^^ 


25 


dozen times, counting after school and Sat- 
urday. My ! Here she comes now, and this 
is another time!” 

Dorothy looked down the avenue, where 
Tess, with a smile parting her lips, was 
hurrying toward them, and she wished that 
Patricia had not spoken so unpleasantly. 

Indeed, she wished that Patricia had not 
happened to be there, and then the odd thing 
occurred. 

‘‘Oh, Dorothy, I came to tell you that I 
want you and Nancy to come over to my 
house Saturday. Will you come? I so 
want you to,” she said eagerly. 

“Grandmother is to visit one of her 
friends that day, and she said we girls would 
have a fine time ‘keeping house together.’ ” 

“I know it would be great fun,” Dorothy 
said, “and we’ll surely come if Mother has 
no other plans for Saturday.” 


26 DOROTHIES NEW FRIENDS 


“I do hope you can come,” Tess said, 
^‘and now I’ll run along because I’ve an er- 
rand to do. I just stopped on my way to 
invite you.” 

Saturday came, and Dorothy found it im- 
possible to go with Nancy, because Mrs. 
Dainty had engaged a dressmaker for that 
day, and Dorothy must remain at home to be 
fitted. 

dear, I don’t care to go over to Tess 
Haughton’s house unless you go with me,” 
Nancy said, for she felt that the invitation 
was mostly for Dorothy. 

Aunt Charlotte, when she was appealed to, 
said that she thought it too bad for Tess to 
remain at home waiting to receive two 
friends, and have neither appear. She 
thought, as they had accepted the invitation, 
and Dorothy must remain at home, that 


THE FIRST DAY*^ 


27 


Nancy should go, and help to make the after- 
noon as pleasant as possible. 

Nancy thought so, too, so she set off at 
a rapid pace, and soon was nearing the house 
that Tess had pointed out as the one where 
she lived. 

She had been quite willing to go when she 
thought that Dorothy was to be her compan- 
ion on the way, but the walk alone had been 
tedious, and she had realized that half the 
fun had been in having Dorothy with her. 
The afternoon alone with Tess was not so 
tempting. 

She liked Tess, but if the three were not 
to have the fun together, then she would 
have preferred spending the afternoon at 
home with Dorothy. She never tired of 
Dorothy. 

Would the afternoon with Tess seem long? 

As she neared the house, the door opened. 


28 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 

and Tess ran down the walk to meet her. 

‘^Oh, I’m glad you’ve come!” she said; 
then, Where is Dorothy?” 

‘^She couldn’t come,” Nancy replied, and 
told the reason. 

It was evident that Tess was greatly dis- 
appointed. 

She was pleasant, surely, and she said that 
she was glad that Nancy had come, but she 
seemed quiet, and Nancy heartily wished 
that Aunt Charlotte had let her remain at 
home. 

The truth of the matter was that while 
Tess Haughton liked Dorothy and Nancy 
equally well, it was Dorothy, whose friend- 
ship she sought. 

Jack Tiverton had called her ^^foxy,” and 
Dorothy and Nancy had wondered why he 
had said it. 

‘‘I asked Grandmother if we might make 


TEE ^^FIRST EAY'’ 


29 


fudge, and she said we might, so let’s begin 
the afternoon with that,” Tess said, but she 
said it as if she were little interested in the 
task. 

‘‘I don’t know how to make it,” Nancy 
said, “but I’ll help you make it, if you’ll tell 
me how.” 

Tess looked at her curiously, then going to 
the closet, put the material for fudge on a 
tray, and brought it out to the table. 

Nancy wished that she. could think of some 
way in which she could politely tell Tess not 
to bother with fudge. 

She felt, for some reason that she could 
not explain, that Tess had thought that 
candy-making for three would be great fun, 
but that she saw no pleasure in making it 
for two. 

“If I tell her not to do it, she will be of- 
fended,” Nancy thought, “and yet I feel that 


30 


DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


she is just doing it because she thinks she 
must/’ 

Together they worked, Nancy doing as 
Tess directed, and heartily wishing that she 
was at home. It was not that Tess was not 
pleasant, for that was not true, but she 
talked little, and Nancy knew that it was nat- 
ural for her to be lively. 

When the fudge was done, and set away 
to cool, they went to the sitting-room, and 
Tess took some large volumes from the book- 
case, and placing them upon the table, sug- 
gested that they look at the pictures. 

Nancy agreed, and they seated themselves, 
commencing at once to turn the pages. 

Soon Nancy realized that Tess was leaning 
back in her chair, as if she had grown tired 
of the books. 

‘^You look at them, if you want to,” she 
said, ^^IVe seen them all.” 


THE FIRST DAY^’ 


31 


It was the manner rather than the words 
that was rude. 

Nancy turned a few pages, glancing at the 
pictures while she tried to think of an ex- 
cuse for going back to the Stone House and 
Dorothy. 

It was far from pleasant to remain with 
Tess while she was in her present mood. 

Something that Jack Tiverton had said 
recurred to Nancy. 

‘^Tess is fond of those who are likely to 
give her an invitation,’’ he had said. 

What did he mean ? 

Nancy looked up from the book that lay 
before her on the table, and saw that Tess 
was leaning upon the window-seat, and look- 
ing out, as if wholly unaware that she had a 
guest. She turned a few pages, glanced at 
the pictures, and then said that she must go. 

As she walked along the avenue, she tried 


32 


DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


to think just what it was that had made the 
afternoon not only dull, but really unpleas- 
ant. 

Perhaps Jack Tiverton was right,’’ she 
said. 

^‘It’s true that she plays with both Dor- 
othy and me, but — it is Dorothy who has the 
parties at the Stone House. 

that is it, then she really invited Dor- 
othy, and let me come, too, if I wished.” 

Aunt Charlotte tried to comfort her, but 
Nancy felt sure that she knew the reason for 
Tess Haughton’s indifference. 


CHAPTER III 

CHEATING 

W HEN Monday came, Tess divided 
her attention between Patricia and 
Arabella, with a few odd moments for shy 
Leander. 

One might have thought that she had for- 
gotten that she ever had known Dorothy 
Dainty or Nancy Ferris. 

She hardly believed that the excuse for 
Dorothy’s non-appearance on Saturday 
afternoon was true. She thought that Dor- 
othy might have come with Nancy had she 
wished to. Tess preferred not to show that 
she was vexed, however, and with Patricia 
and Arabella, she was the gayest of the gay. 

33 


34 DOROTHY’S NEW FRIENDS 


The boys and girls were greatly excited 
over the examinations, now but a week dis- 
tant. 

Huge statements as to the amount of study 
required to ^^pass,’^ were freely circulated, 
and Shorty’’ Marston (no one seemed to 
know his proper given name) remarked that 
he expected to have to wear a bandage 
around his head to keep it from getting 
cracked” with overwork, whereupon Jack 
Tiverton coolly remarked that he had never 
seen his head in any other condition. 

Shorty took the remark good-naturedly, 
saying that he would enough rather have his 
head ‘^cracked,” than ‘^soft.” 

‘‘Whose head is soft?” Jack asked 
sharply. 

“Oh, I’m too polite to make personal re- 
marks,” Shorty said, and dodged to make 
his escape, laughing as he ran. 


CREATING 


35 


‘‘I don’t see how Tess Hanghton can ex- 
pect to stand well in the class when she won’t 
study,” Molly Merton said, ‘‘but she told me 
this morning that she meant to get ninety 
at least this month.” 

“Ninety!” cried Eeginald. “Well, I’d 
like to see her get ninety per cent, on her 
examination-papers when she’s never pre- 
pared with her lessons.” 

“Maybe she can think of right answers to 
questions better when she has time to write 
them than when she’s asked to answer at 
once,” said Flossie Barnet. 

Dear little girl! It was always Flossie 
who searched for an excuse for any one who 
was criticised. 

“And maybe she can think of smart an- 
swers even quicker if she peeps over some 
one’s shoulder, and copies what he is writ- 
ing,” said Jack Tiverton. 


36 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


‘‘Oh, Jack!” Dorothy said, and the tone 
of her sweet voice held reproof. 

“Well, I don’t care,” Jack said, but his 
flushed cheeks told that he did. Indeed, he 
cared a great deal for Dorothy’s approval. 

“See what she did Wednesday!” he went 
on to say. “I guess every one who sat near 
her could see that. She copied every one of 
her problems from Dorothy’s paper, and 
then when Teacher asked how many had 
solved all of them, up went her hand, as big 
as life. 

“She had them all nicely copied on her 
paper, but she hadn’t solved one of them! 
What’s that but cheating, I’d like to know? 
She ’s not fair, and she ’s not truthful. Why, 
girls, you look at me as if I’d said something 
fearful, but my father thinks a cheat or a 
liar is a fearful thing, and he always says : 
‘Jack, my son, get all that you can get hon- 


CHEATING 


37 


estly, but let the rest go, and tell the truth, 
boy. Bravely tell the truth,’ and I’m going 
to.” 

‘‘You’re a trump!” cried Eeginald, “and 
some day I’ll vote for you for mayor of Mer- 
rivale!” 

“I’ll have to know a lot more than I do 
now to fill the place,” Jack said, with a 
laugh, “but if I’m ever in a place like that. 
I’ll be ‘fair and square,’ and any fellow that 
works for me will have to be the same.” 

“Three cheers for Mayor Tiverton!” 
shouted Eeginald, “and say! Put me in 
some place where I can spend money for 
lovely parks, and a big fountain in the 
square, will you? I’ll vote for you, you 
know.” 

“Here, here! This sounds like politics, 
and graft.” 

It was Mr. Tiverton, his eyes twinkling. 


38 


DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


‘^Oh, we’ll be honest when the time comes, 
only just now we got excited ’bout being 
’lected,” Reginald explained. 

‘^And it’s quite a while before we’ll be 
voting,” said Jack. 

^^And Jack would make such a dear 
mayor,” cried Flossie, ^‘and Reginald knows 
just how to spend money and get the most 
for it. I’ve seen him do it at the fair.” 

‘^Dear little loyal friend,” Mr. Tiverton 
said, laying his hand on Flossie’s bright 
hair. advise you two young men, when 
you are old enough to run for office, to en- 
gage Miss Flossie as a campaign-worker to 
secure votes for you.” 

^‘We will, for Flossie is a regular hrick^ 
Father,” Jack said. ‘‘She always does just 
as she promises. If she said she’d win peo- 
ple to vote for us, she’d do it if she had to 
walk, and talk for a month.” 


CHEATING 


39 


‘‘Well, of course I would,” said Flossie. 
“Wouldn’t any girl who was any sort of 
friend?” 

“Oh, yes, yes !” cried Dorothy, and Nancy, 
as if with one voice. 

Again and again after Mr. Tiverton had 
left them, the thought of their eager friend- 
ship for each other, and the clear, honest 
light in their eyes, of Flossie’s earnestness, 
came back to him, and once he said softly to 
himself : ‘ ‘ May they always remain as loyal 
and true.” 

When school opened on the following 
Monday, Dorothy and Nancy, Jack, Eegi- 
nald, Katie, and Flossie were, for the first 
time, too closely occupied to notice what was 
going on about them. 

Eeginald was the first to see that some- 
thing was “happening.” He promptly 
touched Jack’s shoulder. 


40 


DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


Jack looked up, laughed softly, and at- 
tracted Dorothy’s attention. 

Nancy heard Jack’s whispered words: 

^‘Look! Just look at them!” 

By this time all were looking, including 
the instructor. 

She saw, as they did, that Tess was copy- 
ing directly from Leander’s paper, while 
Patricia, who sat on the other side of Le- 
ander, was doing the same. 

Judging from appearances, Arabella was 
copying from no one’s paper, but she was 
obtaining help, however, from a printed key 
which lay upon her lap just under the 
desk. 

From time to time she glanced at it, then 
resumed writing. 

Miss Holton stood for a moment watching, 
then she said : 

‘^Therese Haughton, Patricia La vine. 


CHEATING 


41 


Arabella Correyville! I will see you after 
school, and in the meantime, please attend 
strictly to your own papers.” 

‘‘I’m not copying from any one’s paper,” 
said Arabella. 

“Possibly not,” Miss Holton said, “but 
you might lay aside the book that you are 
reading from.” 

“I don’t see how I can stay after school,” 
Arabella said, adding: “My Aunt Matilda 
said I must come home — ” 

“Your Aunt Matilda isn’t conducting this 
school, so you must remain with the others.” 

Arabella looked as if she thought she was 
being unfairly treated, Patricia was angry, 
Therese tried to look innocent, and failed. 
The three looked at the pupils who were dis- 
missed at four o’clock, and each view^ed her 
detention from a different angle. 

Arabella’s mind was occupied with plan- 


42 DOROTHIES NEW FRIENDS 

ning an explanation of her late return home ; 
Therese was wondering if there was any- 
thing that she could do that would make Miss 
Holton very sorry that she had accused her 
of ^‘cheating,” while Patricia was rebellious 
at having been detected. 

When Miss Holton closed the door, she 
returned to her desk, and then, very gently 
she spoke to the three girls before her. 

She called their attention to the fact that 
that which they had copied from another’s 
work, represented l)orrowed goods. That 
no knowledge had been gained by the act, 
that the act was dishonest, and that attempt- 
ing to do it slyly, was practicing deceit. 

It was a kindly little talk, and one would 
have thought that the girls would have felt 
abashed, and that each would have deter- 
mined to work so diligently during the next 
month, that she might be able to pass the 


CHEATING 


43 


next examination with knowledge that she 
had made her own. 

That was not the case, however. 

Therese listened intently to all that Miss 
Holton said, but if the words impressed her, 
the expression on her pretty face did not 
show it. 

Arabella glared through her spectacles at 
her desk-top, and one might have thought 
that she was trying to decide what sort of 
varnish had been used upon it. 

Patricia watched the clock. 

Apparently her only thought was as to 
how long Miss Holton would talk. 

And when at last, after what seemed to be 
a very long half-hour, the three walked out 
of the school-yard together, it was Patricia 
who first spoke. 

thought she’d never stop talking!” she 
said, crossly. 


44 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


‘‘I wonder if we’ll have to stay after 
school every time she sees fit to keep ns?” 
Therese said, in much the same tone. 

don’t know what Aunt Matilda will say 
about it, ’ ’ chimed in Arabella. ‘ ‘ She always 
says, ‘You must come right home from 
school, Arabella,’ and how can I, I’d like to 
know, when Miss Holton keeps us forever? 
Aunt Matilda says she has her views 
about — ” 

“Oh, 'bother her views!” cried Patricia, 
her eyes flashing. 

“Well, I can^tV’ declared Arabella. 
“It’s her ‘views’ that bother me.” 

Patricia looked at her for a moment, then 
burst into peals of laughter. 

“You certainly are the most old-fashioned 
thing I ever saw!” she said, as soon as she 
could speak. 

A lanky youth came sauntering along just 


CREATING 


45 


at this point, and Patricia turned her atten- 
tion toward him. He was looking down as 
if watching his awkward feet, and whistling 
a tune so slowly that one might have thought 
that he was going to sleep. He was not at 
all fond of girls, and was about to pass the 
group, but Patricia stopped him. 

^^Oh, Leander!” she cried. ‘‘Aren’t you 
sorry we had to stay after school^?” She 
was trying to look very winning. 

“Do ’no ” he said dully, then : ‘ ‘ What ’d 
she keep you for?” 

“Oh, Leander!” Patricia said, and from 
behind a clum of shrubbery came a teasing 
voice, singing: 

‘‘Oh, Leander! Oh, Leander! 

Down the street let us meander. 

Oh, I never saw a gander 
Half so skinny as Leander.’’ 


“Say, quit that!” 


46 


DOROTHIES NEW FRIENDS 


Leander was anything but sleepy now ! 

‘‘Can’t a fellow sing?” replied a teasing 
voice. 

“You can’t sing that! I’ll tell you why. 
Because I’ve heard enough of it!” 

There was no reply to this. Evidently 
Eeginald realized that Leander had suffi- 
cient snap to resent teasing, and also that 
he was much the bigger boy of the two. 

For a moment he stood listening, his eyes 
upon the big bushes from behind which the 
teasing voice had sung, then he turned to re- 
sume his walk. He was annoyed by the tor- 
menting song of Eeginald, and so was in no 
mood for talking. 

Imagine his disgust when Patricia came 
tripping along beside him, peeping up into 
his face, and chattering so fast that his slow 
mind could not grasp what she said. 

Therese and Arabella looked after the two. 


CHEATING 


47 


^‘Well, if she isn’t queer to go off like 
that!” cried Therese. 

‘‘Aunt Matilda says — ” 

“I know what I’ll do,” Therese inter- 
rupted. “I’ll go home with you for a little 
while. I’m just wild to see your Aunt Ma- 
tilda you talk so much about!” 

Arabella knew that Aunt Matilda would 
not be at all pleased to see Therese, or indeed 
any one of the schoolmates at that hour. 
They had remained at school until half-past 
four, and so long had they talked after leav- 
ing the schoolroom that it must be after five. 

“You might come over Saturday,” Ara- 
bella ventured. 

Saturday cried Therese. “I didn’t 
say anything about Saturday, besides, I’ve 
something else for that day. No, I’ll come 
over now, for a while, of course I mean if 
you’d like to have me?” 


48 


DOROTHY’S NEW FRIENDS 


Therese, you know I’d like you to 
come,” Arabella said quickly. 

‘‘Then I’ll come now,” said Therese. 
“Come on!” 

Arabella was in an uncomfortable posi- 
tion. She liked Therese Haughton, and 
wished to hold her friendship, so she felt that 
she must trust to luck that Aunt Matilda 
would be in an agreeable mood when they 
arrived. She feared if Therese were not 
permitted to come when she chose, she might 
be vexed, and refuse to come at all. 

On the other hand, if Aunt Matilda should 
happen to be in one of her — ^well, unpleas- 
ant moods, Therese might very reasonably 
refuse to venture inside the Corre3wille 
house again. 

It happened that Aunt Matilda had had 
an unusually busy day, the maid who as- 
sisted her, had done everything wrong, the 


CHEATING 


49 


fruit-dealer had left the wrong parcel at the 
house, and the grocer had forgotten to call 
at all. She had told Arabella that a few 
tasks would be left for her to do after 
school, and Arabella had forgotten all about 
them. 

As Therese, with Arabella, was entering 
the gateway, they barely missed colliding 
with the belated grocer’s boy. 

Aunt Matilda stood on the porch, berating 
him, when she espied the two girls coming in 
at the driveway gate. 

^‘Good gracious, Arabella! Where have 
you been since school was out at four? 
Who’s that girl? I’ll have to remind you, 
Arabella, that it’s not worth while for you 
to bring your schoolmates home with you on 
a day when you know that there are tasks 
left for you to do. You bring them think- 
ing I’ll excuse you from doing things be- 


50 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


cause you Ve company, but that won ’t work. ’ ’ 

‘‘Good-by, Arabella. I guess you won’t 
have time to play before dark, so I’ll run 
along,” cried Therese. 

“I don’t want to be rude, sissy, but Ara- 
bella—” 

Therese ran around the bend of the road, 
and Aunt Matilda stared for a moment at 
the place where the clump of trees hid her 
receding figure, then, taking Arabella by the 
arm, she turned toward the house. 

Wrath filled Arabella’s heart. 

Therese had gone away vexed, and no 
wonder! Why did Aunt Matilda speak so 
bluntly? 

Meanwhile Therese hurried on toward the 
other side of Merrivale, feeling more and 
more annoyed with every step. 

As she neared home, the frown left her 
face, chased away by a new thought. 


CHEATING 


51 


Why should she care because Arabella’s 
aunt had been blunt % 

She would not think about it. She would 
try once more to become intimate with Dor- 
othy Dainty, oh, and of course Nancy, be- 
cause Nancy was always with Dorothy, but 
the Stone House was Dorothy’s home, and it 
was Mrs. Dainty, surely, who gave the de- 
lightful parties. Oh, really, the wisest 
thing to do, was to win Dorothy for an inti- 
mate friend. 

A pretty girl, and a pleasant-appearing 
girl, Therese Haughton might have been 
charming, had she been sincere. 

As it was, she seemed to value the friend- 
ship of this girl, or that, only for any pleas- 
ure that that friendship might bring. 

As she trudged along, she wondered what 
excuse she might invent for going over to the 
Stone House some other day, after school. 


52 


DOROTHY’S NEW FRIENDS 


She had heard some one say that a surprise- 
party was to be given one of the girls whom 
Dorothy valued as a friend. 

Therese wondered if she could obtain an 
invitation. She surely wished to be one of 
the guests. Yes, indeed, she must enjoy that 
party ! 

The next afternoon Dorothy drove Eomeo 
down to the Center. 

School had closed an hour earlier because 
of a meeting that the teachers were to at- 
tend, and Dorothy having written a long- 
delayed reply to a letter to Vera Vane, de- 
cided to take it to the post-office, instead of 
dropping it into a letter-box. 

Therese was leaving a store just as Dor- 
othy entered the post-office. 

The pretty phaeton attracted the attention 
of the designing girl. ‘‘The very thing!’’ 
she whispered. 


CREATING 53 

She sauntered along, and then quickened 
her steps when Dorothy appeared. 

‘‘Oh, are you going home now?” she 
asked. 

“Why, yes,” Dorothy said, “but I’ll drive 
around to your house with you, if you like.” 

“You’re nice to say that,” Therese re- 
plied, “but there’s no need of doing that, 
because I was going over to your house, so 
I can ride with you now, and go home later.” 

“Then get right in,” Dorothy said, and 
soon Eomeo was taking them swiftly over 
the road. 

Long before they reached the Stone 
House, Therese had been assured that she 
should be included in the list of guests for the 
surprise-party, and her delight was bound- 
less. 


CHAPTEE IV 


A GENUINE SUKPRISE 

M OLLIE MEETON was always de- 
lighted with an unexpected pleasure, 
and she often said that the joy of anything 
was doubled if it were a surprise. 

When her friends decided to give her a 
surprise-party, they knew that she would be 
greatly pleased. Flossie Barnet at once told 
her Uncle Harry, because he was sure to 
think of something novel that would help 
to make it a success, and he agreed to meet 
the boys and girls after school, and help 
plan the event. 

‘‘But what shall we do with Mollie?’’ he 
asked, his eyes twinkling. 


54 


A GENUINE SURPRISE 


55 


^‘She would surely feel hurt if we were 
unwilling to have her with us, while we were 
planning a good time, yet this event is in- 
tended for a surprise for her. We can’t talk 
it over unless she is somewhere else.” 

When the afternoon arrived, matters had 
arranged themselves, for Mrs. Merton called 
for Mollie after school, and the two drove 
off, Mollie looking back to call to her 
friends : 

^‘See you to-morrow.” 

For an hour after, the schemers talked, 
and planned. 

Uncle Harry offered some fine sugges- 
tions, and when they parted, the boys and 
girls were sure that the party would be a 
success. 

Next day Mrs. Merton was taken into the 
secret, and she promised to keep Mollie at 
home, and away from the windows until the 


56 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 
fanfare of the trumpet’’ should sound at 
the door. 

Saturday was the chosen day, and it 
seemed to the eager boys and girls, as if Sat- 
urday would never come, but it did. 

At half-past one, Dorothy, on Eomeo, 
waited for the guests to arrive. She won- 
dered why they were not yet in sight. 

Five, ten, fifteen minutes went by, and 
then the sound of merry voices told that the 
playmates were on the way. 

Soon they rushed in at the driveway, and 
then they crowded around Romeo and his 
rider, all talking at once in an effort to de- 
scribe the fine surprises that were to be 
‘‘sprung” for Mollie. Uncle Harry now 
joined them. 

“I think we will start now,” he said, and 
all agreed. 

Jack Tiverton handed Dorothy a trumpet 



Dorothy, on Romeo, waited for the guests to arrive. — Page 56. 





7 




.A 


«' . 




A GENUINE SURPRISE 57 

and she rode along the avenue, followed by 
a troop of laughing girls and boys. 

Mrs. Merton, at half-past one, had asked 
Mollie to try on a new dress that she had 
already seen. 

^‘Why, I truly thought you decided that 
that one pleased you,’’ Mollie said. 

‘‘I believe I did say so; however, I’d like 
to look it over again.” 

Mollie slipped into the new dress, and Mrs. 
Merton made a pretense of looking very 
closely at its trimmings, then to use a bit 
more time she said: 

^^You never would wear those shoes with 
it, Mollie. Go and get your bronze shoes, 
and let me see how they will look with it.” 

Mollie soon returned with the bronze 
shoes, but Mrs. Merton, glancing at the 
clock, saw that a little more time must be 
used. 


58 


DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


‘‘I believe, after all, I’d like the light-col- 
ored shoes with that dress, Mollie,” she said, 
“take out the ivory-colored pair, and put 
them on. I am sure I prefer them.” 

Mollie wondered why. Her mother was 
usually willing that she should choose for 
herself the shoes that she wished to wear. 

She sat down and put them on. Then she 
walked over to look in the mirror, but before 
she reached it, a long sweet note from a 
trumpet, followed by tinkling bells and noisy 
clappers, made her turn toward the win- 
dow. 

“Why — ee!” she cried. “There’s Dor- 
othy on Eomeo, and all the boys and girls, 
and Uncle Harry, and — oh, now I know why 
you made me try on this dress !” she cried, a 
new light coming into her eyes. 

“You knew they were coming and you 
wanted me to look nice. Oh, of all things ! 


A GENUINE SURPRISE 


59 


It’s the dearest thing! It’s a surprise- 
party for me.” 

She flew down the stairs to greet them, 
where another surprise awaited her. 

She ran out into the porch, ‘‘Oh, I’m so 
glad you’ve come!” she cried. 

“Oh, surely,” Uncle Harry said with 
mock gravity, “but you don’t have to wel- 
come us, because, — we have come to welcome 
you to your own party. Miss Mollie.” 

“Oh, how funny!” cried Mollie, laughing 
as they entered and took possession of the 
parlor. 

“It’s a shame that Eomeo had to be left 
out,” she said. 

“Oh, he has an especial invitation to spend 
the afternoon with the groom,” said Uncle 
Harry, “and I believe he is to have, as an 
extra treat, a handful of sugar cubes, so he’ll 
not miss us at all. 


60 


DOROTHY’S NEW FRIENDS 


‘‘And now, Miss Mollie, we are each bur- 
dened with a parcel addressed to you, so 
here on this table that seems just the right 
size, we’ll place our offerings. You see no 
one cared to arrive empty-handed.” 

Gayly they placed their gifts upon the ta- 
ble, and Mollie ’s eyes were bright with pleas- 
ure, although her voice shook just a bit as 
she said: 

“Oh, how dear you are, every one of you. 
J ust see the lovely things ! ’ ’ 

There were boxes of bonbons, a lovely 
fan, a bottle of rare perfume, some books, 
a pair of pretty slippers, a pair of dainty 
gloves, a lace handkerchief. 

“Oh, how dear, how dear!” Mollie said 
again, “and I thank you all for such lovely 
remembrances. ’ ’ 

Meanwhile Uncle Harry was having a 
great time, searching in first one pocket, and 


A GENUINE SURPRISE 


61 


then another. Assuming an air of great an- 
noyance he looked from one to the other. 

certainly thought I had a gift for Mol- 
lie,’’ he said, vainly trying to look greatly 
puzzled. 

‘^Oh, Uncle Harry, you know you have, so 
you needn’t pretend you haven’t. You 
showed it to me, and it’s in your coat-pocket 
now, for I saw you put it there just before 
we started,” Flossie said, laughing as she 
tried to extract from his pocket, the pretty 
case that she had seen him place there. 

^^Who’d ever believe that Flossie would 
give me away like that?” he asked, then, 
^^Well, I declare, I’ve found it myself!” he 
said, drawing it forth with a fine air of sur- 
prise. 

^‘Miss Mollie, come at once to me and let 
me see if my gift fits,” he said. 

As he spoke he opened a small blue velvet 


62 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 

case, and there on its satin lining lay a little 
gold bangle. 

^‘Oh, how lovely!” cried Mollie. 

The boys and girls crowded around her, 
when Uncle Harry clasped it upon her wrist, 
and all admired the pretty gift. 

can’t begin to tell you how pleased I 
am with my new bangle,” Mollie said. 

‘Hf I often see you wearing it, I shall 
know,” Uncle Harry replied. 

‘^Your party is a surprise, and your gifts 
are surprises,” said Flossie Barnet, ‘^and I 
shouldn’t wonder if there were some other 
surprises, too.” 

^‘Here comes one now,” cried Jack Tiver- 
ton, with a laugh. 

They looked toward the door. 

Sure enough, a surprise was coming, or 
rather, had arrived, for at that moment Pa- 
tricia Lavine entered. 


A GENUINE SURPRISE 


63 


‘^Well, I’m here,” she announced, ‘‘and 
I know you must have intended to invite me, 
for Dorothy’s mother always asks me to the 
parties at the Stone House, so of course I 
could come here.” 

How hold she was ! 

Flossie, the youngest of the party, tried 
to ease the awkward situation. 

“You said you were to he away on a visit 
for a few days,” she said. 

“Well, I changed my mind,” Patricia re- 
plied, “and what makes you all stare so? 
What Were you playing when I came in? 
You needn’t have stopped for me.” 

She really believed that her arrival was of 
so great importance, although she had come 
uninvited, that the guests had paused in the 
midst of a lively game to look at her bold 
little self. 

“We’d not commenced to play any games 


64 DOROTHY’S NEW FRIENDS 


yet,’’ Dorothy said, ‘‘for each of us brought 
a gift for Mollie, and we were watching her 
surprise when she opened the numerous 
packages.” 

“ H ’m ! ” said Patricia. ‘ ‘ W ell, I can give 
her something as well as any of you.” 

She unclasped a huge pin from the front • 
of her waist, and offered it to Mollie. 

“You can have that, if you want it,” she 
said, coarsely. 

Mollie ’s cheeks flushed. 

“You’d better keep it,” she said, not at- 
tempting to take it. 

“All right,” Patricia said, hastily re- 
placing the pin. “I did hate to give it up. 
My aunt in N’Tork gave it to me, and it 
cost ever so much.” 

Patricia had surely shown her lack of 
good-breeding, and the others of the party 
were disgusted. 


A GENUINE SURPRISE 


65 


They felt ill at ease, and heartily wished 
that she had remained away. 

Jack Tiverton and Eeginald were not at 
all disconcerted. 

At the end of the parlor they stood lai^gh- 
ing and talking in an undertone, and Dor- 
othy whispered to Nancy: 

do hope that Reginald and Jack aren’t 
planning some outrageous joke on Patricia.” 

That happened to be exactly what they 
were doing. 

Neither of the boys would for a moment 
think of doing anything to mar the pleasure 
of the party. 

There would be plenty of time to joke Pa- 
tricia, and they would watch for the chance. 

When all had admired Mollie’s gifts, and 
Patricia had, for the time, decided to be more 
agreeable, there w^as a momentary lull in the 
conversation. 


66 DOROTHY’S NEW FRIENDS 

That was what Arabella had been waiting 
for. 

‘‘Why don’t you dance?” she suddenly 
asked, at the same time looking from one 
face to the other to learn the effect of her 
question. 

It was not that she wished to dance. Aunt 
Matilda had never permitted that. Aunt 
Matilda had her “views” about most things, 
and dancing she sternly disapproved. 

It was for the sake of suggesting a change, 
and also because she believed that there were 
no musicians present, that made Arabella 
ask the question. 

“That’s a fine idea, Arabella,” said Uncle 
Harry. “I second the motion, for I am sure 
I heard something like the tweaking of 
strings, just a moment ago.” 

“Well, I didn’t!” declared Arabella. 

“It may be that you hear them now,” Un- 


A GENUINE SURPRISE 


67 


cle Harry said, for at that moment a jolly 
one-step rang out merrily from the hall. 

Arabella gasped with astonishment, but 
the others laughed gayly, and Mollie was as 
much surprised as any of the guests. 

The fine phonograph was another gift, 
that, delayed in arriving, was just in place 
in the hall when Arabella had fretfully said : 

^^Why don’t you dance?” 

Lightly they skipped to the lively music, 
their eyes bright, their cheeks glowing. 
Some one changed the disc for one on which 
was a dreamy waltz. After that a fox-trot 
made things gay, and Arabella began to 
think that suggesting dancing made it rather 
dull for herself. 

wonder why I set them dancing?” she 
said softly, but Patricia, who now stood be- 
side her, had heard. 

can’t think why, unless you wanted to 


68 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 

see Jack Tiverton dance every minute with 
Dorothy Dainty!” she said. 

‘ ‘ Pooh ! Who cares who he dances with ? ’ ’ 
Arabella said, to which Patricia replied: 
‘‘Why, Arabella! You do.” 

There’s no knowing what Arabella might 
have said, but just at that moment Mrs. Mer- 
ton asked them to come to the dining-room, 
suggesting that each boy escort a girl friend 
out to enjoy the spread. Of course Jack in- 
vited Dorothy, Reginald chose Flossie, Un- 
cle Harry asked Mollie to be his companion 
at the “feast,” making them all laugh by 
calling her “Miss Merton.” ' 

How they enjoyed the good things ! How 
they laughed and joked as the feast pro- 
gressed ! 

“What fun it is to have a party that was 
all planned before I dreamed I was to have 
it!” said Mollie. 


A GENUINE SURPRISE 


69 


‘‘Talk about dreaming/’ said Jack Tiver- 
ton. “Why, MoUie, we were here before 
you knew it!” 

“I know it,” cried Mollie, “and when I 
heard the trumpet, I thought a circus had 
come to Merrivale, and was parading along 
the avenue.” 

“If you’d seen Eeginald vaulting the 
walls to get here, you’d have thought some- 
thing was chasing him ! ” J ack said, in a ban- 
tering tone. 

“I wanted to be on time and see Mollie ’s 
look of surprise,” Eeginald said, “and I 
knew I’d have to run to do that. I meant 
to know if Patricia was present, or if she 
had really gone off on that trip she had been 
telling every one about, and I was bound to 
know if J ack Tiverton would let any one but 
himself have a chance to talk or dance with 
Dorothy, and — ” 


70 


DOROTHY’S NEW FRIENDS 


‘^Here, here!” cried Jack, ‘‘that’s enough 
for now.” 

“Oh, is itl” Eeginald said, with a chuckle. 
“There’s quite a bit more that I thought of 
saying.” 

“Well, you needn’t!” Jack said shortly. 

“I wish you’d let him say all he wants to,” 
drawled Arabella. 

“ ^AU he wants to,’ might keep us here lis- 
tening for weeks/’ cried Jack. 

Some one found a disc with a bewitching 
waltz, and soon they were swaying to its 
graceful measure, and Arabella, as she 
watched the dancers, wondered if she could 
think of any new method of coaxing that 
would force Aunt Matilda to relent, and per- 
mit her to learn to dance. 

“Father would let me, if only she would 
stop objecting. I wonder if she ever 
danced?” she thought. 


A GENUINE SURPRISE 


71 


No, the idea was absurd. Aunt Matilda! 
Why, almost any one in Merrivale looked 
more probable, or possible, for a dancer. 

Small, thin, and stern-faced, one might 
know at a glance that she would never have 
done anything so flighty. 

Patricia, determined to dance with Jack 
Tiverton, had roughly caught hold of his 
sleeve, and begun to dance with him, or per- 
haps dance around him would be more truth- 
ful, before he had actually realized what she 
was about. The waltz flnished, Patricia 
dropped on a chair beside Arabella, and be- 
gan to wield her fan. 

^ Won ought to be thankful, Arabella,” she 
said, ^‘that you don’t dance, because no one 
can coax you for a waltz, or a one-step when 
you’re really too tired to dance.” 

‘‘Why, Patricia!” cried Arabella, “you 
snatched at Jack just now, and made him 


72 DOEOTEY^S NEW FRIENDS 


dance with you, just as he was going to ask 
Dorothy to waltz with him. He was almost 
beside her when you just pulled him toward 
you, and commenced to hop and jump 
around him.” 

Patricia’s eyes were blazing, and there’s 
no knowing what she might have said, but 
before she could say a word, Uncle Harry 
reminded the guests that it was time to be 
forming for the march home. The after- 
noon had sped more swiftly than they had 
realized, and they said “Good-by.” 

Mollie’s grateful words rewarded them for 
having planned the surprise-party for her. 

Mollie had been delighted. Dorothy, 
Nancy, Flossie and Jack, Eeginald and Ka- 
tie Dean all declared the party a success. 

Uncle Harry said that he had enjoyed it, 
and as she rode along, Dorothy blew soft 


A GENUINE SURPRISE 


73 


little notes on the bugle, as she listened to the 
happy chatter of her friends. At last she 
spoke, when the others paused. 

‘‘I wonder what Patricia and Arabella 
were talking about,’’ she said. Whenever 
Patricia wasn’t dancing, they talked, and 
talked.” 

‘‘You never can guess what those two are 
planning to do,” Reginald said, to which 
Jack gave hearty assent. 

“Therese Haughton is with them most of 
the time now,” he added, “and I know she’s 
pleasanter than the other two, but I can’t 
help thinking when I see those three together 
of the old saying: ‘Birds of a feather, 
flock together.’ ” 

“Here, here! No gossip!” cried Uncle 
Harry, shaking a Anger, although his eyes 
were dancing. 


74 


DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


^‘Why, it isn’t ‘gossip’ to tell what every 
one knows, is it, Uncle Harry?” Flossie 
asked. 

. “They are together,” she added, “but I 
think Therese seems pleasant. Why didn’t 
she come?” 

It was then, for the first time that they 
realized that Therese had not been invited ! 
They had intended asking her to be present, 
but each had left it for another to do, and so 
no one had done it, and Therese wondered 
why. 

The next day after school Patricia no- 
ticing that she was rather quiet, asked her 
why she was not at the party, and Therese 
told her that she had not been invited. 

“Poohl” cried Patricia, “neither was I, 
but I went!” 

“You must like to go where you are not 
invited!” Therese replied. 


A GENUINE SURPRISE 


75 


Well, I’d rather than stay at home,” Pa- 
tricia coolly declared, which was at least 
frank, and it was the truth. 

Patricia would use any means to be pres- 
ent at a party. 


CHAPTER V 

A STOLEN HOLIDAY 

LETTER from Muriel, and one from 



Xjl Vera!’’ cried Dorothy, one day as 
she recognized the handwriting upon the en- 
velopes. Let’s sit here in the window and 
read them together.” 

Nancy shared the low cushioned seat with 
her, saying as she took her place: ‘‘Read 
them aloud, Dorothy.” 

“I’ll drop them into my lap, and the one 
that is address-side up. I’ll read first.” 

“Vera’s came right side up,” said Nancy, 
“so read that one first. It is always great 
fun to have a letter from Vera.” 


76 


A STOLEN HOLIDAY 


77 


‘‘That is because Vera herself is full of 
fun, and the fun gets into her letters.’’ 


“Dear Dorothy, and Nancy; 

“I’ve waited to write to you, because I 
wanted to have you say when you received 
my letter, ‘What a jolly letter Vera writes!’ 

“Nothing seemed to be happening, and 
twice I commenced a letter to you, and my 
brother Rob said, ‘It reads like the dull 
diary of the day’s doings.’ 

“I thought so, too, although I told him he 
needn’t have said so. He had been teasing 
me all the week, and to even things up, he 
went out and bought a new collar for my 
poodle. 

“Well, things enough have happened now, 
so that I must commence to write about 
them, before I forget them. 

“First of all, the poodle objected to his 
new collar, and twisted himself almost in 
two, trying to back out of it. Then he tried 
to scratch it off, and after that he tried to 
roll it off on the grass. He’s used to it now, 
and doesn’t seem to mind it. 

“Rob took first prize in Latin this month, 
and Father says that he hopes he will con- 
tinue to do good work. 


78 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


‘‘Rob played all last season, and so, of 
course did not hold as good a place in his 
class as he was able to. 

“Now that he has taken one prize. Father 
will expect him to keep taking them, and 
Rob is working ‘like a beaver,’ he says. 

“He laughs and says, ‘Why did I take 
that prize ? It has actually compelled me to 
work all the year to keep up the pace. ’ Let 
me tell you, Dorothy, I’m almost sure that 
something I said to Rob set him going ! 

“Rob thinks you’re something w^onderful, 
and he blushes when I tell him so, but he 
doesn’t deny it, so when I heard Father say, 
‘I wish Rob was more studious. I’d like to 
have him stand higher in his class,’ I thought 
of the finest way to make Rob work. I’d 
ask you to guess what I said, but you 
couldn’t, so I’ll have to tell you. 

“I said, ‘Do you remember hearing Dor- 
othy Dainty talking about Jack Tiverton?’ 

“ ‘M-m,’ he said, and pretended to be in- 
terested in the book that he was reading. 

“After a while he looked up. 

“ ‘Well, go on, Vera. What about him?’ 
he said. 

“ ‘Oh, nothing special,’ I said, ‘only I was 
thinking how much she said about the high 
average he got on his examination papers at 


A STOLEN HOLIDAY 


79 


school. She is fond of study, so it’s only 
natural that she should think well of a hoy 
who never gets less than ninety for an 
average each month. She told me Jack 
usually’ — but I didn’t get any farther, be- 
cause he interrupted me. 

‘ Never mind about that Merrivale 
chap,’ he said. ‘Ninety isn’t such a great 
thing, and I’ll prove it for I’ll get higher 
than that. See if I don’t.’ 

“My cousin Lola is away at school this 
season, and tells me, in her letters all about 
the fun she’s having. I wish I could go to 
a fine school for girls, ’specially if it was 
away from the city. I have nice times here 
at home in New York, but I think it would 
be great fun to be with a crowd, just a jolly 
crowd of nice girls, because I’d feel so smart 
and independent, doing just as I thought 
best, and never having to ask any one if I 
could. I told Eob that, and he said : ‘Why, 
Vera, you do about as you like now, and 
you’d be homesick before you’d been away 
a week.’ 

‘ ‘ I wouldn ’t. I just know I wouldn ’t, and 
I’ll coax and coax to go off to school next 
season. Dick is shouting to me to come 
downstairs, and go for a ride. Wilbert 
Gaines is with him, so I guess I’ll go. 


80 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


‘‘Eob said that Wilbert and I are the 
greatest talkers he ever knew, and that he 
didn’t believe that I could get a chance to 
say a single word if Wilbert got started 
first. 

‘‘Well see. Ill run off with the boys 
now, and 111 write again soon, because I’ve 
ever so much more to tell you. 

“Lovingly, 

“Vera.” 


Dorothy and Nancy laughed. 

“Isn’t that letter just like Vera?” said 
Nancy. 

“So much like her that we can almost see 
her fiying down over the stairs.” 

Muriel’s letter was like her little self. In 
her quiet way she told them of her school 
and her work at the great studio, where un- 
der her master’s guidance, she was studying 
modeling. She closed, sending her love to 
them both, and coaxing for an early answer 
to her letter. ^ 


A STOLEN HOLIDAY 


81 


wish Vera and Muriel could come here 
for a little visit this winter,” Dorothy said. 

mean to ask Mamma if they may come at 
the Holidays.” 

Mrs. Dainty happening in at that moment, 
readily gave her consent, and Dorothy flew 
to her desk, and soon was writing the invita- 
tion, sending it thus early that it might reach 
her friends before they had made other plans 
for the Holidays. 

There was great excitement the following 
week at school. 

Articles were missing, and it was evident 
that some one had been through the school- 
rooms after school hours. 

The master, Mr. Wardwell, had been so 
stern, and so strict that he was disliked by 
nearly all the pupils. 

After closely questioning both pupils and 


82 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 

teachers, he announced that all the assistant 
teachers must, for a time, leave their keys 
with him, during which time, he would try 
to clear the mystery. 

One afternoon, Patricia strolling along 
the avenue after school, saw Mr. Wardwell 
just ahead of her. He was nearing the en- 
trance to the park, his head erect, his bear- 
ing more stern than ever. 

‘‘Now, where is he going she thought. 
“His home is ’way over on the other side of 
Merrivale. 

“I’ll follow him,” she whispered. 

“He said this afternoon that he thought 
he knew who had been getting into the 
schoolhouse, and that when he was sure, he 
should call upon the pupils’ parents. My! 
I wouldn’t wonder if he’s up to that now! 
I truly must see w^here he’s going!” 

Mr. Wardwell was so deeply thinking that 


A STOLEN HOLIDAY 


83 


he did not look up when a party of laborers 
approached. 

The path was narrow, and one of the men, 
regardless of the schoolmaster’s dignity, jos- 
tled against him. 

Where are your manners?” he asked 
harshly, whereat the man replied : 

‘^An’ where be yours, sir, ter speak loike 
thot? TeVe not the excuse that ye’re not 
eddicated/^ 

Silence!” roared the angry man. 

‘‘Sure. I’ve no wish ter talk ter ye,” re- 
sponded the laborer. 

Mr. Wardwell was fairly choking with 
wrath, and Patricia, peeping from behind a 
tree, saw that his face was flushed, and that 
he frowned at the sturdy workmen as they 
tramped along without so much as a back- 
ward look at his important self. 

When he resumed his walk she crept out 


84 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 

from behind the tree, and again followed 
him. 

She was looking down at her shoes, partly 
to admire them, but really to convince the 
teacher, if he chanced to look back, that the 
fact that she was walking in the same di- 
rection that he was, meant nothing. That 
it was only a happening that they both had 
turned into the little path. 

Just as she reached the spot where Mr. 
Wardwell had so harshly spoken to the 
workman, something glittering in the grass 
attracted her attention. It looked very in- 
teresting. What could it be? 

She snatched it from the grass. A look of 
disappointment swept over her face. 

^^Keys!^^ she whispered in disgust. 
thought it was jewelry!” 

Then, it flashed through her mind that 
Mr. Wardwell must have dropped them, and 


A STOLEN HOLIDAY 


85 


that they must be the keys to the school- 
house, and its many rooms. 

In haste she turned, and walked away in 
an opposite direction. 

‘‘If it truly is the set of schoolhouse 
keys,” she said, half aloud, “there’s a chance 
of a wee vacation. I’ll keep them, for a 
while. Who knows that I found them?” 

Bold as she was, she felt a bit eager to 
know if any one had seen her. 

She peered cautiously about her. No one 
was in sight. 

The laborers had vanished, having taken 
a short cut across the meadows, Mr. Ward- 
well had walked through the park, and 
stopped to call upon a neighbor before re- 
turning home, and no one else appeared 
either walking or riding. 

Yet a moment longer Patricia stood near 
the entrance to the park, as if undecided. 


86 


DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


She was not for a moment thinking of giv- 
ing up the keys. No, indeed! She was, in- 
stead, wondering whether she would keep 
the secret, or share it with Arabella. 

After a few moments, she turned squarely 
about, and with a walk that almost amounted 
to a run, rushed up the avenue toward Ara- 
bella’s house. 

As luck would have it, Arabella was stand- 
ing in the gateway, and Patricia flew at her, 
startling her out of her stolid mood, and 
knocking her spectacles off. 

‘‘Gracious!” cried Arabella, “you jostled 
me so, you’ve made my glasses drop off, and 
you broke them.” 

“I did not!” cried Patricia. 

“You certainly did!” insisted Arabella. 

“I knocked them off,” agreed Patricia, 
“but you stepped on them yourself, so ’twas 
you that broke them.” 


A STOLEN HOLIDAY 


87 


‘‘Why, I couldn’t have stepped on them if 
they’d been on my face, could I?” Arabella 
drawled. 

“Well, I don’t see how you could,” said 
Patricia, “but of course I never saw you 
try.” 

“Why, of course you never saw — ” 

“Oh, never mind about that,” Patricia 
said, “because I didn’t run all the way over 
here to talk about your glasses. What I 
came for was to tell you that there’ll be no 
school to-morrow, so let’s you ’n’ me go off 
for a good time, oh, somewhere, I don’t know 
just where now, but we can plan that to- 
morrow. Will you come*?” 

“I’ll ask Aunt Matilda. If Pa was at 
home I’d ask him, but I’ll ask Aunt — ” 

“Oh, botheration, don’t ask any one, and 
don’t tell any one about there being no 
school, for they’ll find out for themselves 


88 


DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


to-morrow. Just come along over and meet 
me. Start the same time you always start 
for school, and then no one can stop you from 
having a fine time. 

^‘If youVe got to tell any one in your 
house about it, I won’t let you go with me, 
and I’ll ask some one else!” 

^‘Oh, I’ll keep still!” Arabella hastened to 
say, ‘‘and I’ll meet you, but why isn’t there 
to be any school 

“Because there isn^tV^ declared Patricia, 
“and to-morrow I’ll tell you why there isn’t, 
and how I know. There ! W ill you come ? ’ ’ 

“Yes, oh, yes!” agreed Arabella, and 
where shall I meet you?” 

Patricia thought for a moment. “Know 
where that little street is that leads off from 
this avenue just before you get to the school- 
house ? I’ll meet you at that corner at half- 
past eight, that is. I’ll wait there a few min- 


A STOLEN HOLIDAY 


89 


utes, but you’d better not ‘poke,’ for I 
sba’n’t stand there all day!” 

“I’ll be prompt,” Arabella said, “and I 
guess I’ll go in now, for Aunt Matilda may 
see me talking with you, and if she does, 
she’ll want to know what we were talking 
about.” 

“Well, you don’t have to tell her,” said 
Patricia. “You just shut your lips tight, 
and say nothing.” 

Arabella backed toward the house. The 
prospect of stubborn silence, and its prob- 
able effect upon Aunt Matilda was not cheer- 
ful, and she thought it best to go in before 
that peculiar woman could have seen her 
niece talking with Patricia. 

“I’ll be on time,” she said, and hastened 
in. 

Patricia thought possibly a little haste 
upon her part might be a good thing. 


90 DOROTHY’S NEW FRIENDS 


She wanted to count over her dimes and 
nickels, and see how much money she had 
with which she could ‘ ‘ treat. 

Arabella had a little ^‘allowance,’’ but as 
Aunt Matilda always told her how to spend 
it, there was no chance to treat,” even had 
she felt inclined. Arabella was not gener- 
ous toward others, nor even to herself, but 
Aunt Matilda was penurious to an almost 
unbelievable degree. 

Mr. Correyville was away from home on 
a long business trip, and Aunt Matilda rev- 
eled in the joy of ‘‘running” the family dur- 
ing his absence. 

Only the day before she had talked for a 
half-hour because the change in Arabella’s 
little pocket-book did not tally with the ac- 
count that she had kept. 

“It’s a cent short!” she declared, with as 
much vehemence as if the Merrivale Bank 


A STOLEN HOLIDAY 


91 


had been looted, ‘‘and I must know, Ara- 
bella, where it has gone. You’re so slow, I 
do believe that some one has taken it from 
you, right from under your nose. You’d 
never know the difference.” 

That roused Arabella. 

‘ ‘Nobody took it I ” she cried. ‘ ‘ I spent it 
for gum.” 

Aunt Matilda lifted her hands, and let 
them drop in her lap. 

Gum ! she shrieked. “Who ever heard 
of a Correyville chewing gum?” 

Then ensued a long dissertation upon the 
great name of Correyville, its worthy mem- 
bers, who had been men of mark, and women 
of distinction, and who, as Aunt Matilda told 
it, had never done anything so “outrageously 
common” as to chew gum! 

Arabella wriggled on her chair, and 
wished that her aunt possessed a less reten- 


92 


DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


tive memory ; wondered how many times she 
had listened to the tedious discourse, and 
concluded that the old portraits in the hall 
looked as if the men and women that had 
sat for them, had surely been too prim to 
even think of gum. Indeed they did not 
look sufficiently lifelike ever to have moved 
their jaws at all. 

She thought of her great-great-great aunt, 
Arabella Mehitable Correyville, whose mar- 
riage to an elderly man was regarded as sur- 
prising until it became known that he was 
very wealthy, and wondered who had ever 
dared to ask her how she spent her money. 

The thin face with its sharp features 
looked capable of refusing to answer any 
questions that it did not relish. 

^‘You may go, Arabella,’’ Aunt Matilda 
said. ^‘You’ve sat still while I’ve been talk- 
ing, but I’m not sure that you’ve taken in a 


A STOLEN HOLIDAY 


93 


word IVe said. You’ve looked as if you 
were dreaming.” 

On the next morning, Patricia stood wait- 
ing, impatiently waiting for Arabella. 

dear! She’s such a slow-coach, I 
s’pose it’ll be a half hour longer before 
she’ll come in sight. My toes are just ^nip- 
ping,’ and it isn’t more than quarter-past 
eight now.” 

She hopped about, first on one foot, and 
then the other, but happening to see a woman 
peeping from a window in a house opposite, 
she instantly stopped dancing, and moved 
along to where a clump of shrubbery, al- 
though leafiess, would act as a screen be- 
tween her and the shrewd eyes that peeped 
over the sash curtain. 

The old saying that ^‘a guilty conscience 
needs no accuser” proved true in Patricia’s 


94 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 

case, for knowing that she was stealing a 
holiday, and that having found the keys, she 
had retained them instead of returning them 
as she should, she felt that every one who 
passed her, guessed her secret, she was al- 
most certain that the woman at that window 
was still watching, although the tall shrubs 
intervened. 

‘^Good gracious! I wish I’d told Ara- 
bella twenty-minutes past eight, instead of 
half -past. I’ve got the fidgets now, and 
there’s no knowing how much longer I’ll 
have to wait. She’s fun to go with, because 
you can tell her anything, and she ’ll believe 
it, but I wish she wasn’t so pokey 


CHAPTER VI 

EAVESDROPPING 

PTER ten minutes more had slipped 



by (Patricia would have said: 
‘‘ crawled ^ a lanky figure came in sight, 
and Patricia whispered : 

do declare, she^s really coming!’’ 

Arabella was hurrying along the avenue at 
a pace that she felt to be almost headlong. 
She would run five steps, then walk ten, then 
run again, making little haste, but giving the 
appearance of desperate effort. 

She reached Patricia with hardly breath 
enough to speak. Patricia knew no mercy. 

^‘What made you so late?” she demanded. 

’Tisn’t much fun waiting here, and that 


95 


96 


DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


woman in that yellow house there, is all eyes, 
watching to see why I’m standing on this 
corner. I do believe she thinks I’m playing 
hookey. I don’t care what she thinks, 
though. Say ! Arabella. Why are you late 
What kept youJ You knew I said to 
hurry!” 

‘Wou haven’t given me a chance to 
speak,” Arabella said, for once resenting. 
‘‘It’s a wonder I got here at all, for I lost 
my glasses, and Aunt Matilda was wild be- 
cause she thought I couldn’t read, or study 
without them, and she kept telling me that 
they’d just had new lenses in them, and that 
now I’d carelessly lost them, and like as not 
they were broken again. She made me wait 
while she hunted for them, and then I had 
to run. 

“ ‘Your eyes will be ’bout used up study- 
ing all this forenoon without your glasses,’ 


EAVESDROPPING 


97 


she called after me, but I kept on running.’’ 

‘^Well, now you’re here, we’d better start 
off.” 

‘‘You haven’t said where we are going,” 
said Arabella, to which Patricia coolly re- 
plied : 

“I didn’t say, because I didn’t know,” and 
with a teasing laugh she added: “I’m not 
sure now.” 

She turned, and led the way toward a lit- 
tle store on the narrow street, and Arabella 
followed, not daring to question her. 

The tiny store held a varied stock, and Pa- 
tricia stared about her, as if trying to de- 
termine ;^hether to purchase the entire 
stock, or only a part of it. 

The little old woman behind the counter 
peeped first through her glasses, then over 
them. 

Patricia, in her bright green suit, yellow 


98 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


fur collar, and red hat was rather unusual- 
looking. One could not otherwise describe 
her. 

We ’ll have two of those bangles. No, 
don’t do them up. We want to wear them. 

’N’ I want a yard of that pink ribbon 
with the green plaids on it. 

‘^Here, Arabella. Take off that plain rib- 
bon, and tie this onto your braid. You 
don’t need to look so stupid.” 

Arabella had become so used to obeying 
Patricia that she never thought of rebelling, 
but she tucked the brown ribbon into her 
pocket, for well she knew that Aunt Matilda 
would never approve of the gaudy plaid that 
now bobbed on the end of her meager braid. 

‘^I’ll have two of those sandwiches, and 
four of those tarts, and six of those cocoa- 
nut squares, and, — oh, yes, I want a pack of 
playing cards, — ^let me see what else? I’ll 


EAVESDROPPING 


99 


put the cards in my pocket. I’ll have a 
pound of chocolate fudge, and four pickled 
limes.” 

She gave one of the brass bangles to Ara- 
bella, slipped the other upon her own wrist, 
put the pack of cards into her own pocket, 
picked up the parcels of candy, and pastry, 
and followed by Arabella, left the store. 

The little shop with its store in the middle 
of the floor-space, and its lack of ventilation 
had been hot and stuffy, and as they stepped 
out into the street, Arabella shivered. The 
frosty air seemed colder by contrast. 

Patricia Lavine appeared always ready to 
eat, Arabella never strong, and constantly 
dosed” by Aunt Matilda, had a small appe- 
tite, and on that especial morning she had 
been so anxious to get away from the house, 
so nervous lest her aunt question her, that 
she had eaten no breakfast, and the loss of 


100 DOROTHIES NEW FRIENDS 


the glasses had so completely filled Aunt Ma- 
tilda ’s mind, that she had not noticed that 
Arabella had left her food untasted. 

So when Patricia said, Let’s go some- 
where and eat our lunch,” she gladly as- 
sented. 

We ’ll have to keep out of sight,” Patri- 
cia said, ‘‘and I guess the summer-house in 
the park would be a good place. Nobody ’d 
be sitting there a cold day like this.” 

Arabella thought not, unless they were 
absolutely crazy, but she said nothing, and 
followed Patricia. 

The summer-house, cool in warm weather, 
was decidedly airy, the breeze blowing 
through it was cold, and crisp, and Arabella 
knew that when she removed her gloves, her 
hands would be actually blue, and Patricia 
would laugh, and call her a “frozen rat.” 
She decided to keep her gloves on. Every 


EAVESDROPPING 


101 


one has some good points, and Patricia 
surely had one. 

If she obtained her money by teasing her 
parents for it, spent it foolishly, and was 
rude and ill-bred, she was, to say the least, 
generous. 

They were in the midst of their lunch, 
having eaten nearly half of their oddly 
chosen menu, when Patricia noticed the 
gloves, and laughed. 

‘^Do you know you’re eating with your 
gloves on?” she cried. 

‘‘My hands are cold,” Arabella said, and 
at that moment a merry whistle made them 
both turn to learn who it might be. 

“Hello!” he called. “Won’t you two 
catch it for playing hookey?” 

“How is it ‘hookey’ when there’s no 
school?” snapped Patricia. 

“No school?” retorted Jack. “Why 


102 DOEOTEY^S NEW FRIENDS 

would there be no school? It’s not a holi- 
day, and they don’t give us a day off for no 
reason at all.” 

‘ ^ Why ar en ’t you in school then ? ’ ’ drawled 
Arabella. 

‘‘Because Mr. Wardwell sent me on an 
errand, ’ ’ Jack replied, with a laugh. ‘ ‘ Who 
sent you?” 

“We thought there was no school to-day, 
and. Jack, don’t tell you saw us.” 

Jack Tiverton looked over his shoulder as 
he set off. 

“I’m no tell-tale,” he said. 

When he had gone, Arabella turned to Pa- 
tricia. 

“Who told you school would be closed?” 
she asked. 

“I’m not going to tell you,” she said, “but 
I certainly understood that school would be 
closed to-day.” 


EAVESDROPPING 


103 


‘‘We might as well go to school this after- 
noon,” Arabella said. “I wouldn’t dare 
stay out, and it’s too cold, anyway. I’ll not 
tell Aunt Matilda I stayed out this morn- 
ing.” 

“Say, girls! There’s one thing I forgot 
to tell you, and that is that Arabella’s aunt 
sent a little parcel over to school this morn- 
ing. It was about the size of an eye-glass 
case, and I guess that’s what it was, for I 
see you ’re not wearing yours, Arabella. Mr. 
Wardwell told the boy that you were not at 
school, but said he’d keep them for you. 
Wonder what your aunt will say?” 

He laughed, and hurried off along the 
path. 

Arabella wondered, too. 

Patricia could simply refuse to explain, 
but no one could safely defy Aunt Matilda 
Correyville. 


104 DOROTHIES NEW FRIENDS 


Arabella already felt decidedly ‘‘queer/’ 

Ham sandwiches and cocoanut candy, 
pickled limes and chocolate fudge made an 
upsetting combination. 

“You look pale, and sort of greenish- 
gray,” Patricia remarked, and believing 
that she was cold, she took Arabella’s arm, 
and literally walked her out of the park, and 
over to a little drug store. 

She stopped before the soda fountain. 

“Two hot lemon sodas,” she ordered of 
the red-haired youth who was wiping the 
counter. 

The youth squinted until his little green 
eyes could hardly be seen. 

“I’ll make ye somethin’ fine, I will. I’m 
some mixer, I am,” he said. 

He forthwith put a little of everything 
into the tumblers, added a bit of cream, 
some tomato bouillon, shook in salt, added 


EAVESDROPPING 


105 


plain soda, and with a flourish, set the glasses 
into the silver holders. 

Patricia tasted it, said it was different 
from any soda that she had ever tasted, and 
drank it. 

Arabella tried to drink hers, but the com- 
bined ingredients gave an outrageous flavor, 
and made her feel worse than before. 

‘‘I can’t drink it,” she said, and Patricia 
looking at her, at last realized that Arabella 
felt really ill. 

‘‘I do believe you ought to go home,” she 
said, but Arabella shook her head. 

‘‘Then come over to my house,” said Pa- 
tricia, “and we can go from there to school 
this afternoon.” 

That seemed to be a good idea, and soon 
the two were walking toward the dingy 
house, on the dingier street where Patricia 
lived. 


106 DOEOIEY’S NEW FRIENDS 


She might have lived in greater comfort, 
and a better home with her mother who, some 
time ago had moved from Merrivale to New 
York. Instead, she preferred to remain 
with her aunt, for the sole reason that she 
could, by letter, coax money that she repre- 
sented that she needed, and then when it ar- 
rived, spend it as she chose. 

Arabella, closely guarded as she was, 
found the freedom with which Patricia spent 
both time and money, very attractive. Pa- 
tricia’s strongest points were her silly van- 
ity, her boasting, and her absolute lack of 
honor. 

She was not charmed with Arabella, but 
she enjoyed bragging to her, because Ara- 
bella was just simple enough to believe her. 
Who else would listen to her silly yarns ? 

‘^My aunt is away for a day’s shopping, 
so we’ll have a lunch, and rest a while, and 


EAVESDROPPING 


107 


then go to school,’’ Patricia said, ‘‘and I 
think it’s mean we have to go this after- 
noon. I certainly understood that there ’d 
be no school to-day.” 

At the beginning of the afternoon session, 
Mr. Wardwell called Arabella to the desk, 
gave her her glasses and sharply questioned 
her regarding her forenoon’s absence. 

Arabella’s answer sounded shrewd, but it 
was not. She was too dull to be shrewd, so 
that it was a happening that she replied as 
she did. 

“I didn’t eat any breakfast, and I felt 
queer when I started out, and after I had 
a lunch I felt queerer than that, and I feel 
even — ” 

Arabella reeled, and caught at the desk. 

Mr. Wardwell led her to a seat. 

“I will let some one go home with you,” 
he said, “but I believe you should sit still 


108 DOROTHY’S NEW FRIENDS 


for a few moments before starting out. As 
soon as the dizzy feeling passes off, you may 
go. Some one should go with you.” 

‘‘I will,” chirped Patricia, so eagerly that 
the teacher, a forgetful man, was reminded 
that she, too, had been absent.” 

‘^Why were you absent this morning?” he 
asked. 

^‘We met at half -past eight, and Arabella 
looked so ill that I thought I ought to stay,” 
she said. 

Mr. Wardwell wondered if another pupil 
had happened along, if she, too, would have 
let sympathy keep her from school. 

Patricia, as she sat beside Arabella, wait- 
ing until she should feel like starting for 
home, worried her small mind as to how the 
schoolhouse doors had been opened that 
morning. The keys, at that moment, were 
in her pocket. 


EAVESDROPPING 109 

She slipped her hand into her pocket. 
The keys were gone ! 

Hark! What was Mr. Wardwell saying? 

^^Some workmen have reported that one 
of their number has lost some keys, and have 
asked me to tell the pupils, so that any boy 
or girl who finds them may return them to 
me. The man who lost the keys states that 
he missed them soon after leaving the park 
through which, with a number of fellow la- 
borers, he had been walking. 

These men have been at work upon a fine 
residence, and the keys are those that have 
recently been fitted to locks on the doors. 

‘^The loss was accidental, yet he has been 
accused of carelessness. I wish that those 
who pass through the park on the way to 
school would devote a few moments each day 
to a search, thus giving a hit of assistance 
to the man who is anxious regarding them. 


110 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


and eager to return them to the owner of the 
house at the earliest possible date.” 

He paused a moment, then : 

‘Hs there any one in this room who has 
known of the finding of some keys?” 

No one answered, and every pupil, save 
two, closely scanned the teacher’s face. 

Those two were Patricia Lavine, and Tess 
Haughton. 

Patricia’s hands were tightly clasped upon 
her desk, her cheeks were red, her eyes down- 
cast. 

At that moment, had those keys been in 
her possession, she would gladly have taken 
them to the desk. As it was, she dared not 
admit that she had had them. 

She had found them just after she had 
seen the workmen talking to Mr. Wardwell. 
Now she knew why the fact that she had 
kept the keys had not closed the school. 


EAVESDROPPING 


111 


And she had lost them ! 

She knew that the schoolmaster was a 
shrewd and persistent questioner. 

If she confessed that she had found them, 
he would ask her where, and when she had 
picked them up, if there had been no one in 
sight to whom they might have belonged, 
why she had kept them, and then — could she 
make him believe that they had, in some un- 
known way, slipped from her pocket? 

No one seemed to notice Patricia, yet one 
there was who watched her closely, and that 
one was Tess Haughton. 

^‘How queer Patricia Lavine looks,’’ she 
thought. 

‘‘J. can’t imagine what it is, but I’ll find 
out what makes her look as if she was more 
than half afraid to breathe!” 

Tess Haughton longed to be a frequent 


112 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


visitor at the Stone House, to be an intimate 
friend of Dorothy’s, and nearly as dear to 
her as was Nancy Ferris. 

She was really very fond of Dorothy, but 
beside her genuine regard she felt a great 
desire to have it said that she was a welcome 
visitor at the Stone House. 

There is a difference between pride and 
vanity. Pride is often a good thing, for it 
makes its possessor ashamed to do anything 
that is small or unworthy. 

Vanity is an attribute with little to com- 
mend it, and a person who is vain will often 
go to great lengths in an effort at display. 

Tess was not especially vain of her per- 
sonal appearance, but she was eager to have 
others think that wealthy people sought her 
for a friend. 

She chose her friends for what they wore, 
rather than for what they were. 


EAVESDROPPING 


113 


One Saturday afternoon she hurried up 
the avenue toward the Stone House. 

She had heard Mollie Merton say : 
be over Saturday afternoon.’’ 

‘‘Come early,” Dorothy had replied. 

“Oh, yes,” had been Mollie ’s eager an- 
swer. “About quarter of two.” 

Tess timed it to reach the Stone House at 
about a quarter-past two. 

She wished it would appear as if she were 
passing and happened in. 

The maid admitted her. 

“Miss Dorothy is in the living-room, with 
some of her friends,” she said. 

Tess stood for a second where the maid 
had left her. 

She busied herself removing her coat and 
hat. It was singular how long a task it 
seemed to unbutton the six buttons that fas- 
tened the coat. Her eyes were bright, and 


114 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 

her lips parted. She was listening to two 
voices in the room across the great hall. 

She heard Patricia’s name mentioned, and 
she was purposely slow, fussing with the coat 
as if it were a difficult task to unfasten it. 

“That’s Mollie speaking,” she whispered, 
“but who is the other? That other voice is 
not Dorothy’s.” 

Still she waited, her coat making her un- 
comfortably warm. 

The boys had called her foxy, and possibly 
they were right. She thought if the maid 
should pass through the hall and see her 
standing idly there, she would wonder why 
she had not joined her friends. Could she 
make her believe that it was impossible for 
her to rid herself of the coat? That that 
alone had detained her in the hall? What 
w^as that other voice saying? 

“Well, 'tis true, Mollie, for Dick Winston 


EAVESDROPPING 115 

told me so. He said he saw Patricia do it.” 

“How did he happen to see her? 
Where was he? Why, Katie, do you sup- 
pose that is really true?” 

“Dick said so, and he was not joking,” 
was the quick reply. 

“So that’s Katie Dean in there,” whis- 
pered Tess. 

She had removed her coat and laid it 
quickly upon the hall chair, then hurried, 
with light footsteps, across the great rug. 

She listened intently, her hand grasping 
the portiere. 

“You look as if you couldn’t believe Pa- 
tricia would do such a thing, but I’m not 
surprised. That isn’t the first queer thing 
that she ever did.” 

“But if it is true that she found the keys, 
why would she keep them? What would 
Patricia, or any other girl want of a set of 


116 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


keys that would lock or unlock nothing of 
her own?’’ Mollie said. 

can’t think why she wanted them,” 
Katie said, then in a lower voice she contin- 
ued: 

‘^One thing we do know, and that is that 
when she found them, Mr. Wardwell was 
just ahead of her on the path, and if she 
didn’t think that they were his, and so didn’t 
give them to him that day, she certainly 
knew what was the right thing to do when 
he told the class about the men who had lost 
them”’ Katie said. 

‘‘That’s true,” agreed Mollie, “and it is 
odd what could have prompted her to keep 
them.” 

Dorothy had left the room to find a book 
that Mollie had wished to see, and been de- 
layed because the book had been mislaid. 

‘ ‘ Here it is, ” she said, with a laugh. “ It ’s 


7 



She listened intently, her hand grasping the portie^re 

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EAVESDROPPING 


117 


a joke that I couldn’t find it, because it was 
exactly where I left it.” 

Still grasping the folds of the portiere, 
Tess waited, hoping to hear more about Pa- 
tricia and the keys. 

The maid, returning to the hall, stood in 
amazement, staring at the girl whom she had 
admitted twenty minutes earlier, and who 
was still in the hall, and — eavesdropping! 

‘‘Whoever she is, she can’t be much to be 
bangin’ round a-listening,” she whispered, 
and at that moment Mollie noticed the*- 
tightly clutched folds of the portiere. 

Without a second’s hesitation, she 
sprang to her feet, and reached the portiere. 

On the soft rug her footsteps had been 
noiseless, and as she peeped out into the hall, 
she looked straight into the eyes of Therese 
Haughton. 

“Why — ee!” came from Mollie ’s lips. 


118 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


‘‘I, I, — why, — IVe just come!’’ stam- 
mered Tess, and the maid so far forgot her- 
self as to say : 

It’s a good half-hour ago I let ye in.” 

Just for an instant Tess stood, then, in a 
sudden panic, she ran to the hall chair, thrust 
her arms into her coat sleeves, snatched her 
hat and rushed from the house. 

Mollie turned, and Dorothy and Katie 
hastened toward her. 

^‘What is it, Mollie Dorothy asked, at 
the same time peering out into the hall, and, 
of course, seeing nothing out there that 
could startle any one. 

‘‘Who went out^’ Dorothy persisted. 

“Tess Haughton,” said Mollie, “and ran 
from the house because I caught her clutch- 
ing this portiere and listening!^’ 

Listening!'^ said Katie. “Oh, Mollie, 
are you sureV^ 


EAVESDROPPING 


119 


Sur el Of course I’m sure. I saw the 
portiere move, and then I noticed that some 
one was grasping the folds, and I went 
straight to it, and there stood Tess, clutch- 
ing at it, her ear close against it, and the 
look in her eyes showed that she was wild 
over what she had heard us sayii^y about 
Patricia having found and kept the keys. 
She looked as if she were wild with delight 
at hearing something so unpleasant.” 

‘^How could she be glad for such a thing 
as that?” Dorothy said. 

^‘You wouldn’t,” said Katie, ^^but Tess 
isn’t like you, Dorothy.” 

^‘Tess and Patricia were together almost 
all the time when school opened, but for 
about a week they’ve not been speaking. 
Tess, for some reason, is vexed with Patri- 
cia, so I guess that’s why she was so pleased 
with what she learned by listening.” 


120 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


^‘She wasn’t much pleased to be stand- 
ing there when I looked out. She could 
think of no excuse, there seemed to be noth- 
ing to say, so she rushed from the house,” 
added Mollie. 

For a time the little group was silent. 
Katie spoke of an entertainment that was 
being planned at school, but she felt little 
interest in it at that moment, because while 
she was speaking of the part that had been 
assigned to her, she was thinking of Tess. 

Dorothy had been standing near the piano, 
and she now sat down, and softly played a 
tender little melody, that seemed to breathe 
of love and kindness, and to banish all but 
gentle feelings. 


CHAPTER VII 


THE STAR OF THE EVENING 

P ATRICIA was now quite easy regard- 
ing the keys. Had they remained in 
her possession, she might have been a bit 
troubled as to whether it were best to give 
them to Mr. Wardwell, and risk his possible 
questioning, or to purposely lose them. 

As it was the keys had ‘‘lost themselves,’’ 
as she expressed it, and she gave no further 
thought to them. She believed that no one 
had seen her pick them up, “and if they are 
now lost, how could I return them?” she said 
to herself. 

She was glad that they had slipped from 
her pocket, because there her responsibility 
had been shifted. Little cared she for the 


121 


122 DOROTHY’S NEW FRIENDS 

inconvenience that their loss had caused, or 
for the unjust blame that would fall upon 
the workman. 

Tess Haughton still kept secret all that she 
had heard at the Stone House. She avoided 
Dorothy and her friends. She could not 
face them, because she could not forget how 
she had been caught listening, and of course 
they remembered it, and her hasty flight had 
doubtless caused much merriment. She did 
not know how gently they had let the matter 
drop. She did not dream that they had not 
spoken of the happening since the day when 
it had occurred. Had the same thing hap- 
pened in her own home, it would have af- 
forded her a theme for conversation for 
weeks. 

She was vexed with Patricia, and was 
eagerly waiting for a chance to tell what she 
had overheard at the Stone House. 


TEE STAR OF THE EVENING 123 


Her pretty face gave no hint of her dispo- 
sition. She had agreeable ways, and seemed 
to be a pleasant girl, but she had one grievous 
fault : she was unforgiving. 

One afternoon during the history lesson, 
Patricia had her book open, just under her 
desk where she could prompt herself, and 
yet feel that the book was unseen. 

Mr. Wardwell, passing along an aisle, 
looked across the room just in time to see 
the book on Patricia’s lap, and he called out 
sharply : 

‘^Patricia, books are laid aside at recita- 
tion. You will remain after school. I am 
surprised!” 

Tess longed to tell about the keys, but 
dared not speak. 

At four, Patricia attempted to file out with 
the others, with the chance that Mr. Ward- 
well had forgotten that she was to remain. 


124 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


He had not forgotten. With a few steps 
he had reached her, laying his hand on her 
shoulder, as he said : 

told you to remain after school. I 
wish to talk with you regarding your per- 
sistence in hiding an open book during reci- 
tation hours.” 

^‘Same as she hides the keys she found. 
Guess you haven’t returned them, have you, 
Patricia?” said Tess, as she was passing 
along the aisle. 

^^You, too, may remain,” said the teacher, 
and Tess was only too glad. If Mr. Ward- 
well questioned her, she could tell all she 
knew regarding the lost keys. That would 
not be tale-bearing. Answering questions 
was certainly not the same as being a tell- 
tale. 

A half-hour later, when Patricia and 
Therese left the schoolhouse, they chose op- 


THE STAR OF THE EVENING 125 

posite sides of the street for their homeward 
w^alk. 

Therese held her head very high as she 
trudged along, while Patricia’s chin was held 
at no less an angle. 

Both were angry, hut each in a different 
way. 

Patricia felt that, as the keys were lost, 
it was idle to fuss about them, and that Mr. 
Wardwell had been most unreasonable to 
speak so sternly to her about holding them 
for a number of days after she had found 
them. 

Therese considered him ungrateful in ac- 
cusing her of spite” in giving the informa- 
tion that he seemed glad to use in accusing 
Patricia. 

Plainly all instructors were unjust. This 
one flagrantly so ! 

The next day, clad in the gayest apparel 


126 DOROTHY’S NEW FRIENDS 

that her wardrobe afforded, she stood upon 
the platform at the station, bound for New 
York, and from her appearance one might 
truthfully say that she departed with flying 
colors. 

No such loophole of escape lay open for 
Tess. She must return to school, and ‘‘face 
the music.” 

There were plenty who would tease her, 
but their hectoring was less annoying than 
the silent rebuke in the eyes of those whose 
friendship she longed to win. The next 
morning she awoke with an aching head, and 
her burning cheeks made it easy for her to 
gain her aunt’s permission to remain at 
home. Tess thought that it would be a bit 
easier to return to school if a day had passed 
since the happening. She was actually glad 
of the headache, forming as it did, a valid 
excuse for her absence from school. 


THE STAR OP THE EVENING 127 


‘‘They wouldn’t make such a fuss about 
anything in N’York as they did about those 
old keys at Merrivale. They don’t fuss 
about anything in N’York. I don’t see 
what ever made me care to go to school at 
Merrivale. I’ll stay in N’York this time, 
but I’ll not go to school. I don’t need to. 
No, I’ll not go to just ord’nary school. I’ll 
go to dancing-school, and learn to dance bet- 
ter than Nancy ever danced, and, — yes, 
that’s the very thing! I’ll go back, for a 
few days, when I’ve learned, and I’ll just 
simply astound them! I’ll dance so won- 
derfully that all Merrivale will gasp!'* 

These were the thoughts that cheered Pa- 
tricia as she saw the distance widening be- 
tween herself and Merrivale. 

Every one in Merrivale knew Nancy’s 
story. Deserted, first by a dissolute father, 
then by a stepmother, Nancy had been taken 


128 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


into the household at the Stone House, and 
then, while her delight in her new-found 
home was fresh, she had been stolen by an 
old uncle, and trained as a child dancer, for 
the stage. 

After unhappy months of incessant work, 
of weariness, and homesickness, Mrs. Dainty 
had traced her, and brought her back to the 
luxurious home where she had been happy 
ever since, dancing only for her friends, and 
that had been a pleasure. 

Patricia had always envied her, and here 
was a chance to outdo’’ her. 

Yes, indeed! It would be simple to learn 
to dance, and what a surprise she would give 
them! 

‘H’ll be the star of the evening !” she whis- 
pered. 

Tess stayed at home for the remainder of 


THE STAR OF THE EVENING 129 

the week, and during her absence a number 
of new pupils arrived, so that little notice 
was taken of her return, attention being fo- 
cused upon the new members of the class. 

There is always interest, yes, and much 
curiosity regarding new members of a large 
class. 

For the time, Patricia Lavine was forgot- 
ten, and Tess felt that her return made no 
stir, because the new pupils held the atten- 
tion of the class. 

It was a relief not to be stared at on the 
first day after she had been absent, but in 
a few days she began to feel injured. She 
noticed that the girls and boys showed a 
great interest in the new pupils. Had she 
chosen to be equally friendly toward them, 
she would have had her share of the fun and 
frolic, and thus would have held her posi- 
tion in the social side of the school life. 


130 DOROTHY'S NEW FRIENDS 


Instead, she kept herself aloof, imagined 
herself ignored, and finally renewed her 
friendship with Arabella Correyville. 

This was not a wise thing to do, because 
Arabella had always made herself so very 
disagreeable, that no one liked her, and Tess, 
who, at the beginning of the term, had been 
popular now found herself in a position 
where she could be as intimate with Arabella 
as she liked, but less welcome with the others 
than before. 

Mollie Merton voiced the general feeling 
when she said: 

^‘If every time Tess comes with us, she 
must drag Arabella along, I wish she’d stay 
away.” 

It was two months since Patricia had left 
Merrivale. 

She had said ‘‘good-by” to no one, and 


THE STAR OF THE EVENING 131 


she had not written to Arabella since her 
departure. 

^^N’York’’ had evidently satisfied her, and 
it looked as if already she had forgotten her 
Merrivale friends, when one day, a letter 
reached Jack Tiverton, that filled his rol- 
licking heart with delight. 

‘‘New York City. 

“Dear Jack: 

“I’ve been here two months now, and I’ve 
been learning to dance, and every one says 
I’m a wonder, and I surely am. 

“Nancy Ferris danced pretty well, and 
she was on the stage, but I’m ’way ahead of 
her. I’m to take a lesson this morning, so 
I can’t stop to write much, but I wrote to 
say that I remember that our class was in- 
tending to give an entertainment some time 
this term, and you and Reginald were plan- 
ning the programme when I left. If you’ll 
let me know just when it is to be. I’ll come 
and do a elegant dance for you. 

“Your classmate, 

“Patricia Lavine. 

“P.S. Be sure to let me know. 

“P. L.” 


132 DOROTHIES NEW FRIENDS 


J ack read the letter, and laughed long and 
loudly. Laughed until his sides ached at its 
absurd vanity, its foolish self-praise. 

In another instant he sprang to his feet, 
shouting, ‘^The very thing! Just the thing! 
You shall surely come and dance for us. 
We wouldn’t miss it for the world. 

‘‘My, my, but we’re in for a treat I” 
“What’s the excitement?” queried Reg- 
inald. “Let a fellow share the joke. Say, 
it must be outrageously funny if you can’t 
stop laughing long enough to tell it. 

“Well, I’ll sit on this wall ’til you can pull 
yourself together enough to let me into the 
j oke, whatever it is. ” 

“Come on over to the garage, and I’ll tell 
you in there, and we’ll both get some fun out 
of it, see ’f we don’t!” 

When Reginald had read the silly letter, 
he looked up at Jack. 


THE STAR OF THE EVENING 133 


‘‘Well, where’s the great fun?” he said. 
“Patricia’s not here, so we’ll not see her 
‘show-off.’ ” 

“But we shall see her!” declared Jack, 
“and that’s where the fun comes in. She 
says, ‘Let me know when it is to he.’ I’ll 
let her know. I’ll give our class some fun. 
Patricia shall come, and do some of her 
‘el’gant’ dancing. I guess it’ll be worth the 
price of admission. I know I’d pay double 
to see her antics.” 

When the two left the garage, their plans 
were completed. 

There would be two entertainments in- 
stead of one. 

The first should be, as already arranged, 
a programme made up of musical and dra- 
matic numbers, the performers being mem- 
bers of the class. 

The second entertainment should be musi- 


134 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


cal numbers by the class orchestra, and 
fancy dances by Patricia Lavine ! 

The two young rascals felt that they could 
hardly wait for the evening of the second 
entertainment to come. 

Reginald wondered if it were a bit mean 
to let Patricia make a laughing-stock of her- 
self, but Jack felt no qualms of conscience 
about the matter. 

Patricia had herself proposed it. Now 
let her come. 

Jack received an immediate reply to his 
letter. Patricia would come on the evening 
he had named, she would do four dances, and 
wear a different costume for each, and best 
of all, the costumes would be of her own de- 
signing ! 

‘^She’ll be a picture, a comic picture at 
that!” cried Jack. 


THE STAR OF THE EVENING 135 


It seemed as if the evening when Patricia 
would display her new accomplishment 
would never come, but it did, and with it 
an audience that filled the little hall. 

The first entertainment had been fairly 
patronized, but the second evening when Pa- 
tricia was to be the ‘^star” found every seat 
sold, and even the aisles filled with those who 
had gladly paid admission, and agreed to 
stand, if only they might see the perform- 
ance. 

Patricia was a pretty girl, her form was 
rather graceful, and many of those present 
believed that, as she seemed always well pro- 
vided with spending money, she doubtless 
had taken sufficient lessons to have thus early 
become an accomplished dancer. A few 
knew better. 

Nancy Ferris, who had inherited her tal- 


136 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


ent from the mother, once a famous theatri- 
cal dancer, had been trained for dancing by 
Professor Bonfanti. 

The course of study had covered long 
months, during which time the teacher had 
seemed merciless. Practice had been daily, 
and under his sharp eyes, and Nancy had 
gone to bed many a night, tired, too tired to 
sleep. 

Of all that audience Nancy, sweet Nancy, 
knew that in the few weeks since Patricia 
had left Merrivale, she could hardly have 
mastered even the rudiments of fancy danc- 
ing. Then, too, Patricia was a girl who 
never cared to make much effort. She had 
been too indolent to do at all well at school, 
and whatever she was asked to do, she in- 
variably declared ^‘not worth bothering 
with.’’ 

^^Oh, I do hope Patricia will do well 


THE STAR OF THE EVENING 137 


enough so that those who’ve never studied 
dancing will think it fine, and I wish all the 
others would try to like it,’’ Nancy whis- 
pered to Dorothy, but Dorothy, who was 
closely watching two who sat in the front 
row at the right of the stage, did not catch 
the whispered words. 

‘‘Just look at Jack and Reginald,” she 
said. “You don’t suppose they’re planning 
some outrageous joke, do you?” 

Nancy watched them for a moment. 

“I do believe they are!” she said, under 
her breath, “for their heads are close to- 
gether, and they’re laughing, too.” 

“And they’ve a big parcel down in front 
of them. See it? What a thing to bring 
with them, and what could they possibly 
need so much that they must have it here at 
the hall?” 

There was no chance to reply because at 


138 DOROTHY’S NEW FRIENDS 

that moment the orchestra struck the open- 
ing chords of the overture, and in listening 
to the music, for the time they forgot to 
watch the two schemers. 

After the overture another selection was 
given, then there was a long wait. The au- 
dience became restless. Could it be possi- 
ble that Patricia, bold Patricia, had been 
seized with stage fright? 

Some one, in a loud whisper, remarked 
that she had probably left the hall by a door- 
way at the rear of the stage. Another be- 
lieved that she was doing much unnecessary 
primping. 

Just as patience was about exhausted, the 
musicians commenced to play an old Span- 
ish melody, and then, mincing, prancing, 
switching her skirts, Patricia came down to 
the footlights, and smiled indulgently upon 


TEE STAR OF THE EVENING 139 


her audience, as if she were doing a great 
favor to appear at all. 

One would have thought that she had been 
upon the stage for at least ten years, had 
become popular, and a footlight favorite, 
and now had condescended to dance for her 
former friends and neighbors. 

Then the dance commenced. She peeped 
over her huge yellow fan, she swung her pink 
skirts, then paused to look at her audience 
to note the effect. 

The broad smiles upon the faces of those 
near the stage she took as signifying un- 
bounded delight, and she pranced more vig- 
orously than before. 

‘‘She’s not doing any real steps,” whis- 
pered Dorothy. “She’s just moving round, 
that’s all.” 

The dance, if it could in truth be called a 


140 DOROTEY^S NEW FRIENDS 


dance, was never designed by any one who 
had knowledge of dancing steps, or figures. 
The mantilla that should have fallen about 
her head and shoulders in soft folds, was 
made of some stiff material, evidently a 
coarse lace, and instead of clinging about her 
shoulders, it stood out in a wiry manner that, 
with its coarse, open mesh, suggested a cage 
for her head. A green waist, with long 
flowing sleeves was the climax of the ugly 
costume. Patricia was simply trying to imi- 
tate a vaudeville actress whom she had seen, 
and knowing none of the steps, the imitation 
was clumsily done, and the dance absurd. 

She ogled, and simpered in a manner that 
she thought captivating, and when she left 
the stage, the spectators breathed a sigh of 
relief. 

Dorothy turned and looked at Nancy, but 
neither spoke. Mrs. Dainty was with them. 


THE STAR OF THE EVENING 141 

and they knew that she would not wish them 
to say a word of criticism that others near 
them might hear. Each knew the other’s 
thoughts, however, and they could talk over 
the evening’s happenings when they reached 
home. 

More music followed, and other numbers 
by Patricia in her so-called “dances,” each 
as absurd as the first, but the fourth, which 
would conclude the entertainment, was the 
worst of all, except for the fact that the 
audience had been bored by the others, while 
the fourth proved to be extremely amusing. 
The first had been called Spanish, the second 
a siren, the third a fiower girl, but the fourth 
was not named. 

Evidently Patricia had not been able to 
name it. 

Indeed, no one could have thought of a 
name that would fit it ! 


142 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


A skirt of red tarlatan with green ribbons 
sewed npon it for a border, a pnrple sash, 
plaided * with every known color, yellow 
stockings, and pink slippers, a tinsel band 
about her head in which were feathers of all 
colors, beads of many kinds around her neck, 
and bangles without number upon her arms, 
she certainly was a singular-looking figure 
as she hopped and kicked her way across the 
stage. 

The sound of stifled laughter did not reach 
Patricia, and she continued her wild cavort- 
ing. She was tired, but this was the last 
number in which she could display her skill, 
or lack of it, and the thought spurred her to 
greater effort. Higher and higher she 
sprang, kicking right and left. 

‘‘Would you give it to her now?” whis- 
pered J ack. 

“If you wait any longer she may run off 


THE STAR OF THE EVENING 143 


the stage, and then you’ll lose the chance,” 
was the whispered reply. ^‘Be ready to 
hand it to her when she bows.” 

J ack unfastened the big paper, disclosing 
a bouquet of huge proportions. 

A small head of hot-house lettuce was sur- 
rounded by big yellow paper roses, a row of 
radishes was next the paper flowers, and let- 
tuce leaves formed the greenery for the outer 
edge of the bouquet. 

With a stamp of her foot, Patricia fln- 
ished the dance, and while the noisy applause 
drowned the music of the orchestra. Jack 
stepped forward and presented his bouquet. 

Patricia accepted it with a bright smile, 
and ran back to her dressing-room. 

Jack was surprised, and, yes, a bit cha- 
grined. 

He had expected to see Patricia as angry 
as a little demon. He believed that she 


144 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


would throw the bouquet on the floor of the 
stage, and stamp upon it in a fit of rage. 

The applause was long and loud. The 
fourth dance had been the funniest thing 
upon the programme, yes, the most comical 
attempt of all, and the mischief-loving boys 
were wild to know if Patricia could be in- 
duced to repeat it. 

Again and again the laughing boys and 
girls resumed their clapping, but Patricia 
did not reappear. 

‘‘You might go out and bow to acknowl- 
edge their applause, even if you do not feel 
like repeating the dance,’’ said the manager 
of the hall, as he paused at the dressing- 
room door. 

The girl only shook her head. 

Patricia, bold, haughty, boastful, was — 
crying and crying as if her heart would 
break. 


TEE STAB OF THE EVENING 145 


^‘Why, you’re crying, girl. You must be 
tired and upset,” the man said, kindly. 

‘^It ain’t the dancin’ nor the heat that’s 
upset her,” said her aunt, angrily. ‘‘It’s 
that nasty vegetable bouquet that young 
monkey out there at the end of the stage, 
handed her. That’s what’s upset her, an’ I 
think it’s jest a burnin’ shame, that’s what 
I do. Merrivale manners is jist awful, I 
say.” 

A glance at the coarse bouquet, and the 
man left the room. 

The boys had left the hall, and only a few 
of the vast audience remained, moving 
slowly toward the door as they talked of the 
evening’s programme. 

Tess Haughton looked up as the manager 
of the hall approached, and noticed his an- 
gry frown. 

“Do you happen to know which young 


146 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


chap it was who presented that bouquet?” 
he asked. 

^‘Why, yes,” said Tess. ^^It was Jack 
Tiverton. Why?” 

‘‘Well, if I was his pa, he’d get a thrash- 
ing for trying to be so funny, or so smart, I 
don’t know which. It was an outrage, and 
the girl is crying as I never saw a girl cry 
before. If he didn’t like the entertainment 
he needn’t have been insulting. I declare, 
I thought J ack was a young gentleman, but 
I must have been mistaken.” 


CHAPTER VIII 
vera’s visit 

T ten o’clock on the following day, 



Am. Patricia sat in her room, looking out 
across Merrivale with sad eyes, and pale 
cheeks. 

Never before had she seemed downcast. 
Never had a blunt speech appeared to hurt 
or grieve her, but Jack’s hateful bouquet,” 
as she called it, had cut far deeper than 
words. 

She had always liked J ack, and had borne 
his teasing wonderfully well, when one con- 
sidered her hasty temper. 

She had accepted the huge bouquet, look- 
ing only at Jack’s laughing face as she took 


147 


148 DOROTHIES NEW FRIENDS 


it, but at first glance at the enormous thing, 
she was hot with anger. She would gladly 
have flung it from her, but in an instant she 
realized that by running with it to the dress- 
ing-room, she might prevent others from 
knowing what a ridiculous bouquet it was. 
In running off the stage with it, she surely 
had been wise, for few got even so much as 
a glimpse of it, and J ack had had no fun at 
all at her expense. 

Hark! Some one was knocking at the 
door. She peeped from the window. A 
very penitent-looking boy, with a big paste- 
board box stood rapping for admittance* 

^H’ll not speak to him!” she said. 

She heard the door opened and closed. 
Then her aunt came hurr3dng up the stairs. 

‘‘Say! Patricia! Stop cryin’ an’ open 
this box. That young chap that made ye so 
mad last night has jest left this fer ye.” 


VEBA^S VISIT 


149 


‘‘I don’t want to open it,” pouted Patri- 
cia. ^‘It’s probably some other horrid ol’ 
thing.” 

‘‘Wal, now, don’t act foolish, Patricia. 
I never seen a lad look so sorry fer what 
he’d done, an’ I b’lieve he’s thought o’ some 
way ter do the han’some thing by ye. Here ! 
Gi’ me the scissors, an’ I’ll open it. I’ll bet 
it’s somethin’ that’ll cheer ye.” 

She cut the strings, and lifted the cover. 
An exquisite bouquet was revealed, and in 
its center lay a note. 

Patricia’s eyes were bright, as she laid her 
cheek against the flowers, and then opened 
the note. 

^‘Dear Patricia: 

am ashamed of the silly joke I played 
on you last night. Mother, when I told her, 
said, ‘Jack, my boy, no gentleman would do 
anything like that. You must do something 
very nice for her to show her that you are 
sorry, as I know you surely are. ’ 


150 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


^^And truly I am sorry, so I send you the 
kind of bouquet that I know you’d like to 
have. 

“Please forgive 

“Your Classmate, 

“Jack Tiverton.” 

Patricia’s wrath was appeased. The 
lovely bouquet of roses, pinks, violets, mi- 
gnonette, and fine greenery delighted her, 
and smiles chased away the tears. 

She believed that it was just possible that 
no one had had a clear view of the first bou- 
quet, and she could tell them about this sec- 
ond one, and enlarge upon its beauty and its 
size. That was like Patricia. 

A week later, Vera Vane wrote to say that 
she would gladly accept Mrs. Dainty’s in- 
vitation, and would come for a week’s visit 
to the Stone House, if she might bring with 
her, a friend, who was visiting her when the 
letter from Merrivale arrived. 


VERA^S VISIT 


151 


Of course Vera and her friend were at 
once assured of a welcome, and in a few days 
they arrived. Vera was her own merry self, 
and in Elfreda Carleton they found Vera’s 
counterpart. ‘^Elf,” they called her, and 
elfish she was, in face, form, and nature. 

She was full of fun, and if, by any chance, 
Vera neglected to start a frolic, Elfreda im- 
mediately planned one. With Dorothy and 
Nancy they formed a lively quartette. 

Owing to damage to the schoolhouse, 
caused by a severe storm, since which the 
roof had leaked, a week’s holiday had been 
given the pupils. 

It occurred at just the right time, the four 
merry friends thought, and every hour of 
the visit was filled with pleasure of one kind 
or another. 

am going away to a girls’ private school 
next season,” Vera said one day, ‘^and Elf 


152 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


is going to the same school. I wish you and 
Nancy could come.” . 

don’t know how it would seem to be 
away from home so long a time,” Dorothy 
said. 

It seemed to her that she would be very 
homesick, but she did not say so. She 
thought Vera would laugh at the idea of be- 
ing homesick, and she never could bear be- 
ing laughed at, especially by Vera, who had 
an impish way of poking fun, even at those 
whom she loved best. 

Elfreda Carleton opened her eyes very 
wide, then, after a second she said, ‘‘I’ve al- 
ways wished I ’d had a real home. I suppose 
most people would say I had, but my father 
and mother died when I was so little that I 
don’t remember them, and Uncle Gerard has 
made me board with poky old people that 
are awfully good, I’m sure, but awfully dull 


VERA^S VISIT 153 

to live with. You see, if I go away to school, 
and have Vera for a room-mate, I won’t be 
homesick for a moment. Instead, it will 
make me sick to think of going home, that is 
to the boarding-place that I call home.” 

Nancy, looking at the dark, elfish face, 
with its small, bright eyes, its tip-tilted nose, 
its pert, red mouth, wondered if Elfreda had 
not been a trial to the ^‘poky” people with 
whom she had so disliked to live. 

‘^And yet it must be dull,” she thought, 
^‘for, only think, in my home, I have no par- 
ents, but dear Aunt Charlotte is so loving, 
and Mrs. Dainty so generous, and Dorothy 
so dear, that I love to be with them, and it’s 
never dull.” 

^^And the school we’re going to is a fine 
school. The picture that they sent Mamma 
looks like an old castle, and there are lovely 
grounds around it, and fountains playing on 


154 DOROTHY’S HEW FRIENDS 


the lawn, and a forest behind it where we 
could enjoy ourselves. Oh, it will be de- 
lightful,’’ Vera concluded, ‘‘and I do so 
wish that you and Nancy would come.” 

It did not seem at all probable that Dor- 
othy or Nancy would ever go away from 
home to any school, however fine it might be, 
but Vera talked of it all that afternoon, and 
Elf told of girls whom she knew who had 
attended that very school, and had told of 
delightful months spent there, until the two 
who listened began to think that it would be 
a novel thing to attend school at such a de- 
lightful place. 

Vera was a chatterbox, and during her 
week’s visit to the Stone House, she told the 
boys and girls whom she met, that she was 
going to the private school, that Elf would 
be her room-mate, and that they were doing 


VEEA^S VISIT 


155 


their best to urge Mrs. Dainty to send Dor- 
othy and Nancy to the same school. 

Mollie Merton told Vera that she was 
w^asting her effort, Flossie Barnet looked in 
wonder at Vera that she should dare to so 
much as think of such a thing, while Jack 
and Eeginald laughed outright at what they 
thought a preposterous notion. 

For some reason, Vera believed that when 
the time came to enter school, Dorothy and 
Nancy would be with Elfreda and herself. 

The visit was delightful. Vera was in 
high spirits. Elf was quite as gay, and many 
a drive they enjoyed behind the pony, Ro- 
meo, out over the snow-covered roads of 
Merrivale. 

There was a charming afternoon tea given 
in honor of the two guests, and the big living- 
room glowed with warmth and color, the 


156 DOROTHY’S NEW FRIENDS 


dancing light from the blazing logs in the 
fireplace touching the crimson portiere, and 
making the jars of red roses a deeper hue. 

Lively music, merry games, followed by a 
tempting treat of ices, frozen fruits, and de- 
licious cakes, gave another delightful day to 
be remembered. Mollie entertained them 
another afternoon, and Uncle Harry, with 
the aid of his lovely wife, and his niece, Flos- 
sie Barnet, arranged a charming little thea- 
ter-party, having engaged a box at the lead- 
ing theater in a neighboring city. 

On the morning of their departure, Vera 
and Elf stood in the spacious hall, drawing 
on their gloves, while waiting for the auto- 
mobile to come to the door. 

can’t believe we’ve been here a week,” 
said Vera. 

shouldn’t think you could,” Elf re- 
sponded, ^‘for the time has flow, skipped 


VERA^S VISIT 157 

or raced away, I don’t know which to call 
it.” 

As they rode to the station, Vera turned 
to Dorothy quickly, saying, ‘‘I don’t know 
why I think it, but some way I feel as if you 
and Nancy would surely enter the new school 
with us when the fall term begins.” She 
turned, on the platform and waved her hand. 

Elf, who had rushed ahead to secure a 
seat, now peeped from the window, her eyes 
twinkling as she swung her handkerchief, 
and called, Good-by.” 

‘^I’ll tie a long string to Vera, so I won’t 
lose her between here and home!” she 
shouted. 

As the train started two heads peeped out 
to say a laughing adieu. 

As they rode homeward, Dorothy turned 
to Nancy, and looked earnestly into her eyes 
for a second, then she said: ‘‘Nancy, I’d so 


158 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


like to go to the large school with Vera and 
Elf, to be under the roof with so many pu- 
pils, to share their studies, and their fun, 
and yet, I ’d not like to be away from Mamma 
so long a time.’’ 

‘‘That’s just the way I feel,” Nancy said. 

“I’d not like to be away from Aunt Char- 
lotte, but the school life sounds so pleasant, 
as Vera described it,” Nancy continued, 
“and while there has been much that was 
pleasant here at the Merrivale school, there 
has been quite as much that we didn’t en- 
joy.’’ 

“I know what you mean,” said Dorothy. 
“You are thinking of the rough boys and 
girls from the other side of the town.” 

“Yes,” responded Nancy, “and yet we 
have to leave those we love to be with behind, 
if we go away to any of the large schools for 
girls.” 


VERA^S VISIT 


159 


‘‘Well, we needn’t bother our heads about 
it,” Dorothy said, with a light laugh, “for 
I am very sure that, even if we greatly 
wished it, we would not be allowed to go.” 

Yet how quickly things can happen! 

Three weeks after Vera’s visit, a business 
deal made it necessary for Mr. Dainty to 
plan a trip West that would cover several 
months, leaving Merrivale in the early fall, 
and not returning until spring. 

Mrs. Dainty was tired with the season, 
which had been very active in a social way, 
and her physician urged that she make the 
trip with him, declaring that the change of 
scene would make her quite herself once 
more. 

‘ ‘ But the children, ’ ’ she ob j ected. ‘ ‘ I can- 
not have their studies thus interrupted.” 

“They are not little children now,” the 
good old doctor said, with a twinkle in his 


160 DOBOTEY’S NEW FRIENDS 


kindly eyes, ‘^and it is an easy matter to se- 
lect a fine school for girls, and let them 
spend the winter there. In all such schools 
there is a matron who looks out for the wel- 
fare of the girls under her care, and, really, 
Mrs. Dainty, the experience would be fine 
for them. They would learn self-reliance, 
and would, if the school were well chosen, 
meet other girls whose companionship they 
would enjoy. Think it over, Mrs. Dainty, 
and say if I am not right.” 

A week later, Mrs. Dainty had received 
from Mrs. Vane, a pamphlet describing the 
school which Vera and Elf were to attend, 
and she was delighted with its contents. 

She read it twice over, arose, and crossed 
the room, but paused half way, leaning upon 
a slender pedestal, her head bent as if in deep 
thought. 

After a moment she spoke. 


VEBA^S VISIT 


161 


the idea pleases Dorothy, then will I 
consider the trip that I truly covet, but if 
I see the least bit of reluctance in regard to 
going away to school, I shall give up the trip 
without a second’s thought.” 

But Dorothy was delighted. 

‘‘If you were to be at home. Mamma, I’d 
not like to go, because I’d be homesick, but 
the lovely home isn’t home when you are 
away, and Vera has told us so much about 
the school that Nancy and I have thought it 
would be fine if we could go there.” 

Dorothy lost no time in writing a gay lit- 
tle note to Vera, to tell her that, with Nancy, 
she would enter the school in the fall, and 
that she would look for Vera and Elf on the 
first day. 

An hour later she met Katie Dean, and 
told her the news, but Katie could not share 
her enthusiasm. 


162 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


They were eagerly talking as they walked 
along. 

Just think/’ Katie said, ‘^you and Nancy 
will be away at school, and your father and 
mother, and Aunt Charlotte out West! 
Why, the Stone House will seem almost de- 
serted, and oh, well miss you so. ” 

‘‘The servants will be there to take care 
of it,” Dorothy said, “so it won’t be quite 
vacant.” 

“Of course it won’t be really empty, but 
it won’t be very lively to look at,” Katie re- 
sponded, “and I don’t think I’ll go by there 
very often, because it will make me feel lone- 
some to look at it, and know that you are 
such a long way from Merrivale.” 

Katie was only one of many that felt sorry 
to have the occupants of the Stone House 
away for so long a time. It was largely that 
they would be greatly missed for their own 



“Just think, you and Nancy will, be away at school! “ 

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VERA^S VISIT 


163 


sake, but beside that, the fact that they were 
generous entertainers was not easily forgot- 
ten, and young and old knew that they would 
miss the delightful times that have made the 
long winter months so cheery. 

Katie walked home with Dorothy as far 
as the great gate, talked with her for a few 
moments, and then went on up the avenue. 

Dorothy watched until a bend of the road 
hid her figure. 

As she was about to turn, a hand laid upon 
her shoulder startled her. 

‘‘What are you ’fraid of Arabella asked 
rudely. 

“I wasn’t frightened,” Dorothy said, 
quietly, “but I was thinking of what I had 
just told Katie, and I didn’t know that you 
were near.” 

“What did you tell her?” persisted Ara- 
bella. 


164 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


‘^You’ll be surprised,” Dorothy said, ^‘for 
Nancy and I are going away to a fine school 
next fall, and we’ll meet new friends but 
we’ll miss our friends here.” 

^ ‘ Did you say what school it was ? ’ ’ queried 
Arabella. 

‘‘I didn’t say,” Dorothy said, ‘‘but I’ll tell 
you now.” 

At this moment, Nancy appeared, and 
Arabella lost no time, but at once asked : 

“What’s the name of the school where you 
and Dorothy are going next season'?” 

“It is ‘Glenmore,’ ’’Nancy replied, where- 
upon Arabella ejaculated: 

“Gracious sakes! That’s just the very 
school I’m going to. Well of all things! I 
thought you and Dorothy were going to some 
great school that none of us girls ever heard 
of, every one is making such a fuss about it. 
Some one sent a book that tells all about 


VERA^S VISIT 


165 


‘Glenmore’ to Aunt Matilda, and she coaxed 
my father, until he agreed I should go next 
season. H’m!’’ 

She turned and left Nancy and Dorothy 
looking after her. 

They saw her turn in at her own gate-way, 
then they looked into each other’s eyes. 

Nancy was the first to speak. 

‘‘Oh, Dorothy!” she said. “We’ve been 
saying that everything was fine about the 
new school, and that it was nice that Vera 
and Elf were to be there, but who would have 
dreamed of Arabella?” 


CHAPTER IX 

WHOM THE SHOE FITS 

T ESS HAUGHTON was once more her 
cheery self. 

Patricia had not returned at once to New 
York. She had remained with her aunt at 
the house on the outskirts of Merrivale, and 
few of her former schoolmates had seen her. 

She had preferred that some time should 
elapse since the evening when her absurd 
dancing had been rewarded with the out- 
rageous bouquet. Then she could describe 
the lovely one that Jack had sent on the day 
following, but perhaps if she simply de- 
scribed it, and refrained from saying when 
she received it, her friends might think that 


166 


WHOM TEE SHOE FITS 


167 


the one that she described was the one which 
they saw passed up to her on the stage. 

Then, too, Vera Vane, and her friend Elf 
Carleton had gone home. 

Tess began to hope that she could claim a 
little attention from Dorothy and Nancy, 
and to feel, in every way, a bit more im- 
portant. 

Most delightful of all was the news that 
spread like thistledown upon the wind, fly- 
ing from one to another, that there was to 
be a party at the Stone House, and, oh, de- 
lightful fact, Tess held her invitation in her 
hand! 

She had heard that the party was to be a 
small one, given for Dorothy and Nancy, 
and their intimate friends, and she had im- 
mediately become an almost daily caller at 
the Stone House. She cared not how she 
obtained an invitation, provided that she did 


168 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


actually receive one, hence, her frequent and 
persistent calls ! 

Now she knew that she was an invited 
guest, and a dress for the occasion was the 
next thing to be thought of. 

There was little money to be wasted upon 
evening clothes, yet something in the shape 
of a party dress must be obtained. 

‘^Auntie will tell me to wear my old white 
muslin, and I can’t, I Ve worn that to every 
party, to church, and to every kind of place 
you could think of, and I can’t go one place 
more with it.” 

Suddenly her eyes brightened, and she 
stood staring at herself in the mirror before 
which she chanced to be standing. 

‘^Tess Haughton!” she cried, ^‘you’ve 
more sense than I thought. I’ll do it to- 
morrow when Auntie is over visiting Aunt 


WHOM TEE SHOE FITS 


169 


Therese. Yes, and she’s to be away all day 
to-morrow. Oh, I can hardly wait to try my 
hand with coloring it. If I have good luck 
with it, it will be fine, for it’s made pretty, 
and besides, no one would know that it was 
colored.” 

Very early the next morning, Tess was up 
and dressed. There was a bit of mending 
to be done to the old muslin before she could 
try her hand at coloring it. 

As luck would have it Auntie was leisurely 
about starting, and it was after nine before 
Tess could begin the task for which her fin- 
gers tingled. 

‘‘Good-by,” she called. “Don’t hurry 
back, because I can amuse myself all day, 
and you’ve not seen Aunt Therese for a 
week.” 

She stood by the window, saw her aunt go 


170 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


down the walk, and out onto the street. 
Once she hesitated, and looked back at the 
house, then turned and went on. 

The muslin was absolutely clean, and it 
had been skillfully ironed. 

If only she might have been content to 
wear it as it was, fresh and white, its lace 
edgings picked out to show the pattern ! 

She stood a moment irresolute. 

can wear it as it is, and be sure of going 
to the party. If I try coloring it, and spoil 
it. I’ll have the pleasure of staying at home. 
Pshaw ! How silly I am ! The piece in the 
paper said it was easy, the only thing to as- 
sure success being plenty of salt in the water 
to set the color, and that the dress to be col- 
ored must first be washed. 

^‘Well, there’s plenty of salt, and I’ll use 
it, and the dress is clean, — so — ^here’s for 
coloring it!” 


WHOM TEE SHOE FITS 171 

She wished that there had been some one 
whom she could question as to the amount 
of bluing to be used. The printed direc- 
tions had been so indefinite. ‘ ‘ Enough blue- 
ing used to give the desired shade,” it said. 
Well, she must guess at it, that was evident, 
so she filled a large pan with water, tinged 
it a delicate blue, and plunged the dress well 
under water, then lifted a fold, and was 
astonished to find that it looked as white as 
before. 

‘‘Why, isn’t that queer?” she cried. 

“Well, I’ll put in enough this time,” and 
she emptied the contents of the bottle into 
the pan, then dropped the dress into it, mak- 
ing sure that it was thoroughly soaked. 

And now it looked so deeply blue that she 
was sure that it was far too dark for a party 
frock. 

“O dear,” she cried, “I wish I hadn’t 


172 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


touched it. It looks perfectly horrid, and 
I’ve nothing to wear to the party.” 

She was nearly in tears when it occurred 
to her that it might look lighter when it was 
wrung out. 

It did, indeed, look lighter, and rather a 
pretty shade of blue. 

‘‘And it will be lighter still when it is 
dried and ironed,” she thought, hopefully. 

It should have hung out of doors, but Tess 
thought that something might occur that 
would cause her aunt to return earlier than 
she had planned, and what would she say if 
she saw the dress, in its present state, hang- 
ing upon the line ? 

Instead she stretched a line across her own 
little chamber, from a hook on the closet 
door, to the bracket that held the mantel. 

The line was much higher on one end than 


WHOM TEE SHOE FITS 173 

it was on the other, so that the dress, when 
hung upon it, lay fold upon fold. 

Tess hung and re-hung it, hut it seemed 
determined to foil her efforts, and stuck al- 
most as close together as if that were ex- 
actly what it was expected to do. 

The muslin was very sheer, and the house 
unusually warm, so that the dress was soon 
dry save in those places where the folds had 
hung closely. 

Tess decided that, as she was anxious to 
iron it before her aunt should return, it 
would be best to commence at once. She 
would not sprinkle the dress, and wait until 
it was evenly damp before ironing it. That 
would take too long. 

She decided to iron the damp places, and 
sponge the portions that were dry. That 
might not be the correct way to do it, but it 


174 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


would be a quick way, she thought, but soon 
found herself mistaken. 

The damp places stuck to the iron, the 
dry places that she sponged did not behave 
much better, and to add to her disgust, the 
bluing had made parts of the dress light 
blue, and, as if to add variety, had left long 
streaks of darker blue at intervals. 

She paused to look at the dress. 

‘‘It isn’t fit to wear!” she cried, and as 
she spoke, the door opened. 

“Oh, Auntie!” gasped Tess. 

“I came back a little early. I thought 
you might be lonesome. Why, what are you 
doing?” as she noticed the dress on the iron- 
ing board. 

“Why, Tess! Is it possible that you still 
get into mischief, as you did when you were 
little? What tempted you to wash that 
dress? It was freshly laundered. I don’t 


WHOM THE SHOE FITS 


175 


understand what possessed you to do this. 
And the bluing ! Why, I should never 
dream that it had ever been a white dress.” 

^‘Well, that was just what I was trying to 
do,” Tess responded. didn’t want to go 
anywhere again with that same white dress, 
so I tried to color it, and it’s all streaked, 
and it’s stuck to the iron ’til I’m about ready 
to fly. Oh, Auntie, can’t you fix it? I so 
want to go to Dorothy’s party, and I can’t 
unless you can make the dress look better 
than it does now.” 

‘‘I’ll see what I can do with it,” was the 
unexpected reply, for at first she had seemed 
really angry, and surely her vexation was 
not unreasonable. 

She had left the house that morning, feel- 
ing that she could spend the day with her 
sister, and easily spare the time. 

“The house is in order,” she said to her- 


176 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


self, ‘‘and the white dress that Tess is to 
wear to the party is freshly laundered.” 

To find that, in her absence, Tess had prob- 
ably ruined the dress was certainly discour- 
aging, but the look of distress in Tess’s eyes 
had moved her to promise to repair the gown 
if possible. 

The evening for the party was perfect. A 
myriad stars twinkled in the blue sky, and 
the air was crisp and cold. 

Every invitation was accepted, and the 
sound of gay voices poured from the open 
doorway as Tess entered. A neighbor had 
agreed to take her over to the Stone House, 
and to call for her as well. 

Her cloak, and hood were soon removed, 
and in her heart she thanked herself for hav- 
ing attempted to color the muslin dress. 


WHOM TEE SHOE FITS 


177 


Not a thought had she in her selfish little 
heart of all the extra work that her aunt 
had been forced to do. The muslin now ap- 
peared to be a delicate shade of blue, with 
lace edgings to match its tint. 

Light blue ribbons had been added, and 
tiny pink moss buds made the entire effect 
charming. 

Tess had hinted for new blue slippers, 
but her aunt thought that her patent leather 
pumps with blue hose would do very nicely, 
so Tess was obliged to be content. 

The large parties given at the Stone House 
were always brilliant affairs, with every- 
thing in the way of novel entertainment, but 
the small parties were equally enjoyable, 
and the boys and girls coveted invitations- to 
be present. 

As Tess entered the living-room, they were 


178 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


playing the ‘‘Magic Slipper,” a childish 
game, to be sure, but one that big girls and 
bigger boys enjoy. 

A very large slipper is purchased, and 
given to the lad who is to be the prince. He 
is also provided with wads of tissue-paper 
crushed into masses of varying sizes, with 
large pieces of cork, and loose masses of cot- 
ton-wool. These he carries in a basket that 
hangs from his arm, and from girl to girl 
he goes, trying to fit the big slipper. To do 
this, he is allowed to reach into his basket, 
and, without looking, take the first thing that 
comes to hand. 

He kneels before the girl whom he chooses, 
slips the huge slipper onto her foot, pushing 
her foot, shoe and all, up into the toe of the 
big slipper. Snatching something from his 
basket, he thrusts it into the space left at the 
heel. If it fits, she is Cinderella, if it does 


WHOM TEE SHOE FITS 


179 


not fit, she is not the one who danced at the 
prince’s ball. 

Reginald was the prince, and he had made 
the round of the room without having fitted 
the slipper, when Tess appeared in the door- 
way. 

‘‘Hello, Tess!” he cried. “Come and let 
me see if this slipper fits you. If it does, 
you are Cinderella. Lift your foot, please, 
while I see if this dainty slipper will fit.” 

Tess laughed, and tossed her head. 

‘ ‘ Pooh ! That great thing ! That slipper 
wouldn’t fit anything but a giant foot!” 

Reginald took advantage of her. He 
looked as he put his hand into his basket, and 
snatched two big wads of the crushed paper. 

Shouts of laughter pealed forth as the 
others beheld the number-nine slipper 
perched upon Tess Haughton’s foot, the 
huge mass of cotton holding it fast. 


180 DOROTHIES NEW FRIENDS 


Her cheeks burned with quick anger. 
She saw no joke in the game. She was furi- 
ous, and she kicked the slipper from her foot. 

^‘It would fit any foot, with all that cotton 
in it,’’ snapped Tess. Her vanity was in- 
jured. 

Her foot was rather large for her size, and 
gladly would she have squeezed it into a wee 
shoe, had it been possible to do so. 

The big numher-nine slipper was as pro- 
voking as if it had been an animate object. 

‘‘Why did it stay on at all?” she thought. 

She did not know that Keginald had 
snatched two portions of cotton, and for that 
reason, the big slipper had remained on her 
foot. 

“It’s your turn to say who the prince shall 
be next time,” said Dorothy, hoping that 
Tess might at least enjoy that part of the 
game, but Tess was still angry. 


WHOM THE SHOE FITS 


181 


“Oh, I don’t at all care to choose,” she 
said. “The game is too silly.” 

A faint pink touched Dorothy’s cheek. 
She knew that she could not stop the game 
and start another to please Tess, because 
that would spoil the pleasure of the others 
who were enjoying the fun. 

“Nancy, will you choose the prince?” she 
said, and while she did the best thing pos- 
sible, Tess was more angry than before. 

She had wished the game stopped because 
she, of all the guests, did not care for it. 

She had been unpardonably rude, but she 
did not know that. 

“Choose me!” whispered Eeginald, but 
Nancy shook her head. She believed that 
he wanted a chance to tease Tess, and Tess, 
already angry and sullen, was in no mood 
for being teased. 

She could never take a joke, and foolish 


182 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


girl that she was, she now sat apart from her 
classmates, taking no part in the game, and 
‘‘looking her worst, instead of her best,” as 
Reginald whispered to J ack Tiverton. 

Turning from Reginald, Nancy looked 
from one to another, and found it hard to 
choose. She wanted to be sure of some one 
who would not tease Tess, for Tess now 
looked as if a very slight annoyance would 
be sufficient to render her even more dis- 
agreeable, and that surely ^as unnecessary. 

She had already marred the pleasure a bit, 
and Nancy, for Dorothy’s sake, was trying 
to restore the gayety that had prevailed be- 
fore Tess had arrived. 

She turned her head and saw the laughing 
eyes of Byron Trent, familiarly known 
among his chums as “Lord Byron,” because 
of his bearing that the boys chose to call 
“lordly.” 


WHOM TEE SHOE FITS 


183 


‘‘I choose you, Byron,’’ Nancy said. 

‘‘And I’ll make the slipper fit you, 
Nancy,” was the quick reply, but he did not, 
and shouts of laughter greeted his failure to 
do so. 

After many princes had been chosen, and 
the girls had tried to wear the big slipper, 
some one proposed playing “The Story- 
Teller,” and that was even more fun. 

Jack Tiverton agreed to tell the story, if 
all of those present would supply a word, 
each time that he seemed to be at loss for 


one. 


CHAPTEE X 

NANCY DREAM 

T ESS had tested her skill in coloring, 
and had proved her lack of it. She 
was now testing the friendship of her mates, 
to learn if she were more valued than the 
others. 

She longed to be assured that her wishes, 
and her will were of greater importance 
than those of other girls, and she had already 
learned that there were others, besides her- 
self, to be considered. 

She was also testing the patience of those 
about her, but she did not know that. 

Dorothy looked toward her, and Tess 
yawned, to show that the game bored her. 

184 


NANCY^S DREAM 


185 


Dorothy, of course, did not at once order 
the game stopped, and another substituted, 
and Tess felt more injured than before. 

The story that Jack told, was a highly im- 
aginative tale of a lion hunt. 

According to the rules of the game, one is 
appointed Story-Teller, and before he begins 
to relate his adventures, each guest decides 
upon a word that he will offer to fill a space 
in the story. 

The guests are numbered, and they sup- 
ply words in regular order. They must not 
change the word that they first think of, but 
offer it as gravely as if it exactly fitted. Of 
course it reads like nonsense, but the game 
is a fun-maker, and the more absurd the 
story is rendered by the added words, the 
better. 

Twice, in spite of her sulky mood, Tess 
laughed outright, and as the story grew more 


186 DOROTHY’S NEW FRIENDS 


exciting, and the supplied words more ludi- 
crously inapt, she fell in with the merry 
mood of the others, and began really to en- 
joy herself. 

Patricia was not present. Mrs. Dainty 
had sent her an invitation, hoping thus to 
give her a pleasure that would help her for- 
get the happening that had made her grieve. 

But Patricia had been too deeply hurt. 
She did not care to meet her former mates, 
nor did she wish to risk seeing them look 
first at her face, and then at Jack’s to learn 
if either felt the least embarrassment. 

She would rather forego the pleasure of 
the party, and keenly she must have felt it, 
because always before, she had been as anx- 
ious as Tess Haughton had been, to secure 
an invitation to any party in Merrivale, es- 
pecially those given by Mrs. Dainty for Dor- 
othy. 


NANCY^S DREAM 


187 


There were more games, and then dancing, 
a violin and piano giving fine music for the 
little party. 

Arabella was another whose absence really 
improved the party, because she usually sat 
glum and uninterested during the games, 
and when dancing was enjoyed, was sure to 
remark that her Aunt Matilda didn’t ap- 
prove of dancing. To be sure, the girls and 
boys were not eager to hear what her Aunt 
Matilda thought about dancing, but that 
made it the more irritating. Arabella could 
not dance, so she usually stared at the dan- 
cers, and when she did not comment upon 
their lack of grace, she aired her aunt’s 
‘‘views” regarding frivolity in general, and 
the pastime of dancing in particular. 

Reginald told Mollie Merton that he be- 
lieved that Arabella’s aunt had kept her 
away that she need not even see the dancing. 


188 DOROTHY’S NEW FRIENDS 


to which Mollie replied that she might as 
well do that as to talk about it. 

Mollie had little patience with either Ara- 
bella, or her aunt. 

After the dancing, a delicious little ban- 
quet was served, and the salads and ices were 
greatly enjoyed, and when ‘‘good-nights’’ 
were said, every one was able truthfully to 
say that the evening had been delightful. 
Even Tess had enjoyed the party, and ear- 
nestly she said so. 

The little party had been given just be- 
fore the first of March. 

A few weeks had passed, and now, early 
in May, the warm days made it seem almost 
as if summer, rather than spring had come. 

Early blossoms were making the gardens 
gay, and even the wild fiowers were out- 


NANCY^S DREAM 


189 


doing themselves, in their effort to be as 
showy as the cultivated blooms. 

Across the field a slender figure made its 
way, a graceful figure in its trim outing- 
suit of light-gray serge. 

The hat, with its bright Roman scarf 
twisted about the crown, made a gay note 
of color, and from beneath its softly droop- 
ing brim hung a braid of glistening yellow 
hair. The waving ends, unbraided, needed 
no ribbon to confine them, for so tightly did 
they curl, that they clung together, making 
any sort of fastening unnecessary. 

It was Dorothy, and no one was in sight 
to wonder why Nancy was not with her. It 
was for Nancy’s sake that she had set forth, 
and it was also because of Nancy that she 
was hastening along at top speed. The 
night before, Nancy had cried out in her 


190 DOROTHY’S NEW FRIENDS 


sleep, that some one was chasing her, and 
so great had been her terror that she could 
not sleep again, but lay listening to every 
sound, and when morning came, she was 
pale, and feeling far from well. 

Mrs. Dainty tried to reassure her, and 
Nancy listened patiently, but she seemed no 
less nervous than when she had first awak- 
ened. 

Aunt Charlotte, sitting beside her, noticed 
her pale cheeks, and wondered that the ef- 
fect of a dream could be so lasting. 

You have not yet told me what the dream 
was that so frightened you,” she said. 

For a moment neither spoke, then Nancy 
said: 

dreamed that some one was going to 
take me from here, and make me dance on 
the stage again, just as my old uncle and 
aunt did. That is a good while ago, but I 


NANCY^S DREAM 


191 


haven’t forgotten how it felt to be stolen, 
and it seemed so real, — so real!^^ 

‘‘But, Nancy dear, your old Uncle Steve 
is dead, and your aunt, the last time you 
heard from her, was not at all likely to live. 
Don’t you know that, Nancy? Don’t you 
remember, dear?” Mrs. Dainty said. 

“Yes, I remember,” Nancy replied; “but 
Sue was working for her, and she was then 
sick in bed, but just as soon as she improved, 
she was up and olf somewhere, and Sue left 
alone in the house. She wrote to tell me, 
and you took her here, to be a maid, and she’s 
been here ever since. 

“But the voice I heard last night was not 
Uncle Steve’s; ’twas not my aunt’s voice. 
It was Signor Bonf anti’s voice, and he was 
driving me before him, on the way to the 
theater!” 

Dorothy left the room. 


192 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


Her mother and Aunt Charlotte were say- 
ing all that could be said to comfort Nancy, 
and she slipped away to find Sue, and to 
question her regarding Nancy’s aunt. 

The maid was dusting the hall, and looked 
up, as Dorothy approached. 

She listened to all that Dorothy had to tell 
about the dream, agreeing, with a nod when 
she remarked that Nancy’s Uncle Steve was 
dead. 

^‘Her aunt seemed ’bout used up, till the 
day she up an’ left me. I was never more 
s ’prised in my life than when I found she’d 
gone an’ went,” remarked Sue. 

‘^But she says it was Bonf anti’s voice that 
frightened her, ’ ’ said Dorothy. ‘ ‘ Oh, I wish 
there was some one I could question, who 
could tell me if either of those horrid people 
would ever try again to get Nancy!” 

^^They is/’ said Sue, in a voice hardly 


NANCY^S DREAM 


193 


above a whisper, ^‘but I do’ ’no’s yon care 
to go ’n’ ask her, but if ye tvould go, she’d 
tell yer, ’n’ tell ye straight, too.” 

‘‘I’ll go this minute if it’s any one that’s 
in this town. Who is she ? Where is she ? 
Where’ll I find her?” 

“Come here ter the door, an’ I’ll show ye 
jest where,” said Sue, in a whisper, and she 
opened the great door. 

“There!” she said, pointing a slender fin- 
ger. “See that big piece er land beyond 
this garden wall ? See ’way off there on its 
farthest end a sort of wood-patch, and be- 
tween them two tallest trees jest where I’m 
pointing, a bit of smoke curling up, an’ 
blowin’ off toward them other trees?” 

“Yes, oh, yes,” cried Dorothy, catching 
her breath, “and in the house that chimney 
belongs to I’ll find the woman that will tell 
what I want to know. What is her name?” 


194 DOROTHY’S HEW FRIENDS 


‘‘I do’ no V’ said Sue, and Dorothy caught 
her sleeve, and shook it nervously. 

^‘But, Sue, try to remember her name. I 
have to know who to ask for.” 

‘^Oh, you don’t have to ask for her. 
There’s no one in the house hut her, and 
she’ll let you in. She looks a little queer, 
but you needn’t he afraid, for she’s all right, 
only she don’t look like any one you ever saw 
before.” 

And when she stood before the tiny cot- 
tage, Dorothy, for the first time, wondered 
what sort of face a woman could have, who 
could look like no one whom one had ever 
seen before. She had not long to wonder, 
for at that moment a little old woman opened 
the door, and bade her enter. 

saw ye cornin’,” she said in a thin, 
creaking voice, ‘‘and I knew by the look er 
yer face that ye was mighty anxious ter 


NANCY^S DREAM 


195 


know the answer ter some question that’s 
puzzlin’ ye. What is iti What d’ye want 
ter know? I’m no witch, though they call 
me so. Speak!” 

Dorothy shivered, but it was anxiety for 
Nancy, not fear that shook her slender 
frame, and she told the story of Nancy’s 
early experiences in a steady voice, that, 
however, betrayed her regard for her. 

While listening, the old woman took from 
a drawer in the little table before her, a pack 
of rather grimy playing-cards, shuffled them, 
then dealt them, in such a way that they lay 
in nine little piles before her. 

Taking the first pack, and spreading it 
like a fan, she muttered something, then to 
Dorothy she said: 

^‘Your girl friend is born lucky. She is 
well and strong. She is with those who love 
her.” 


196 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


^‘Yes, oh, yes,” Dorothy cried eagerly, 
‘‘but the dream, tell me about that.” 

“Patience, girl. I tell things in the order 
that I see them in the cards. 

“This next pile tells of her beauty, and 
this,” — taking the third pack, — “tells that 
she makes friends wherever she goes.” 

Dorothy tried to hide her annoyance, but 
the toe of her shoe tapped the floor ! 

It was hard to listen to facts that she al- 
ready knew, when her heart was aching for 
assurance of Nancy’s safety. It was for 
Nancy that she had come. She would have 
paid no heed to the dream if it had not so 
frightened Nancy. 

The old woman kept straight on, until the 
last two* piles of cards were left. 

In the next to the last pack, she told of 
the stealing of Nancy, when she was little, 


NANCY^S DREAM 


197 


of her life on the stage, of her wonderful 
dancing, and of her return. 

As she picked up the last pack, Dorothy 
leaned forward, her cheeks pale, and her 
hands nervously clasped. 

^^Her uncle and aunt are both dead, and it 
was them as stole her, but I see in the cards, 
a dark man. I don’t think he’ll get her, but 
he’ll try. I see her safe with a light girl, 
and that’s you. This is where he’d look for 
her. Ef he don’t ketch her here, he won’t 
ketch her at all, fer he won’t try ’fore 
’nother season, an’ when he comes here ter 
Merrivale, you ’n’ this Nancy girl’ll be away 
ter school, so’t he wouldn’t know where ter 
look fer her. This plan fer you two ter go 
away fer a year’s schoolin’ is the best thing 
ye could do.” 

With this comforting thought in her mind. 


198 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


Dorothy turned homeward, and so eager was 
she to tell Nancy what she had heard, that 
she raced across the field at top speed, reach- 
ing the great gate, fiushed and breathless. 

She rushed into the hall, removed coat 
and hat, and turned to mount the stairs, 
when she saw Nancy, just coming down to 
meet her. 

The message from the strange old woman 
charmed Nancy, and a happy light shone in 
her fine dark eyes. 

For a moment she looked steadily at Dor- 
othy, then she said : 

‘‘Where did Sue tell you to find the old 
woman, Dorothy? Did you have to hunt 
her up in any part of this town that was 
lonely?’’ 

“Why, no — ^yes, oh, really, Nancy, I don’t 
know. I guess it was a bit lonely there, but 
I was so eager to get a few words of comfort 


NANCY^S DREAM 


199 


for you, that I believe I forgot to be afraid,’^ 
Dorothy said. ‘‘The walk from here to the 
house wasn’t lonely, but the old woman was 
queer. Come out and I’ll show you where 
the cottage is!” 

Together they ran out into the sunlight, 
and Dorothy pointed to where, in the dis- 
tance, a tiny spiral of smoke curled up from 
among the trees. 

“Look there!” she cried. 

Nancy looked. “I see the smoke,” she 
said; “is that where you went? To a house 
where the smoke shows among the trees?” 

“Yes, and wasn’t it strange that she could 
read so much from just looking at some play- 
ing-cards?” 

Dorothy’s eyes were full of wonder as she 
marveled that the old woman was so clever. 

It certainly did seem strange, and almost 
like witchcraft that she could, by gazing at 


200 DOEOTEY’S NEW FRIENDS 


the playing-cards, tell, not only what would s 
happen, but also what had happened. 

Those things of which she spoke that had 
happened, were absolutely true, therefore it 
was not strange that the two girls should 
have strong faith that those things which 
she predicted for the next season would 
surely come true. 

What would they have thought if they 
could have peeped into the little garden, and 
have watched the little old woman and lis- 
tened to what she was saying to herself ? 

At the very moment that Dorothy and 
Nancy were looking toward the spot where 
the cottage stood, hidden from sight by the 
trees and underbrush, the old woman stood 
at the rear of her house, twisting the dollar 
bill that Dorothy had given her, and chuc- 
kling in a manner that was not very pleas- 
ant. 



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NANCY^S DREAM 


201 


Girls are queer, queer!” she muttered, 
‘‘and even queerer ’n that!” she added. 

“The Dainty girl’s a beauty. Even al- 
though she is petted and pampered, she’s a 
reel little lady. Lor’ me! How her blue 
eyes did stare when I told her what had hap- 
pened ter Nancy Ferris ! 

“Guess ’twouldn’t have seemed quite so 
wonderful ef she’d happened ter hev known 
that ol’ Mrs. Ferris was in my house one 
time when she was watchin’ for a chance ter 
hook Nancy!” 

She bent to drive a bit deeper, a stake to 
which a plant was tied. She rose stiffly, and 
continued pacing up and down the walk, 
still handling the bill as it lay in her apron 
pocket. 

“I wish I’d known how much money she 
had with her. Maybe I could had a dollar 
’n’ a half. Like as not could have had even 


202 DOROTHY'S NEW FRIENDS 

more than that if only I’d been sharp enough 
ter git it.” 

Up and down the little garden path she 
went muttering, and chuckling. 

Chuckling because of the bit of money so 
quickly earned. Muttering because she had 
been so careless as to be, for the time, satis- 
fied with less than she might have had. 

After a time she laughed, shrilly, then 
again she spoke. 

‘‘How startled she looked when I spoke 
of the dark man that might try ter hook her. 
That was jest a guess, that’s all. She ac- 
tually hopped when I spoke of their plan ter 
go ’way ter school. Why, Sue told me that 
yesterday, when she got me ter read the 
cards, and see ’f her brother that she ain’t 
seen fer years was livin’. 

“I declare. Sue thinks the things I tell by 
them playin ’-cards is jest wonderful. Ac- 


NANCY^S DREAM 


203 


tooally, I kin make her believe anything! 

told her if she could get the butler an’ 
the cook ter come ’n’ have their fortune told, 
pretty often, I’d tell hers fer half-price!” 


CHAPTER XI 


THE FAIRY PLAY 

T he air was sweet with the scent of blos- 
soming shrubs, and high against the 
blue sky, the fruit trees waved their flower- 
laden branches. 

It was Friday afternoon, the time devoted 
each week to speaking, and the reading of 
essays. 

A sense of anticipation could be felt. 
Every boy and girl was waiting to enjoy the 
little play that was to be given. Even the 
little pupils of the lower grades were to see 
the pretty play given by the pupils of ad- 
vanced classes, an honor seldom accorded the 
younger members of the school. 

204 


THE FAIRY PLAY 


205 


The play, simple as it was, had many 
points that made it interesting. 

Its actors, seven in all, were given pleas- 
ing parts, with lines, that, well spoken, would 
hold the attention of the audience that now 
had become restless, and impatient for the 
opening speech. 

The entire school had marched to the hall 
on the upper floor of the new schoolhouse. 
The school orchestra had rendered the over- 
ture, and now six of the girls, as the curtain 
went up, were found, talking over the hap- 
penings of the school year. 

‘^Well, girls, the day of graduation is 
nearly here. To-morrow is the day when we 
take our diplomas, and then, — ’’ So spoke 
Tess, who had the opening lines of the play. 

‘‘Why, then,’’ said Mollie, “we shall look 
about us, take our bearings, and try to deter- 
mine what we shall do to win a name.” 


206 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


‘‘I wish some one could tell us what we 
had best attempt,” said Flossie, the small- 
est, as well as youngest of the little actresses. 

And wouldn’t it be fine if we could know 
if any one of us would be successful in at- 
tempting the thing upon which we Ve set our 
hearts,” said Katie Dean. 

‘‘Some one left a very old book at our 
house, and it was so long ago that weVe no 
idea to whom it belongs, but it tells of 
charms, and one that it describes is a magic 
verse which, when recited, summons a fairy 
who will answer questions, and make clear 
those things which puzzle and confuse,” said 
Inez Kingston, a new pupil who had joined 
the class a month ago, and was already a 
favorite. 

“Do you have to do anything besides re- 
cite the verse that calls the fairy?” Nancy 
asked, to which Inez replied : 


TEE FAIRY PLAY 


207 


^^Oh, yes, one thing more. The girl who 
is to summon the fairy draws a circle with 
chalk upon the floor, then recites the verse, 
and the hook says it has never been known 
to fail. The fairy always appears,’’ Inez 
replied. 

‘^Then let us try it,” spoke Nancy. 

‘‘Yes, yes, let us try it!” they cried in 
chorus. 

With a piece of chalk Inez drew a large 
circle, then she slowly sang: 

“In this circle pure and white, 

Fairy, fairy, show your light. 

Tell us if we persevere 

Luck will come our hearts to cheer.’’ 

A flutter in the shrubbery massed at the 
back of the stage, and Dorothy in white 
gauze, with spangled wings, a glistening star 
above her forehead, sprang into the chalk 
line circle, waving her bright wand, and 


208 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 

smiling as she looked from one eager face to 
another. 

‘‘You have summoned me to-day, 

Tell me what you wish, I pray. ’ ’ 

she said, as she stood in the center of the 
circle. 

‘^Tell us, oh, tell us, what we should at- 
tempt, for what we are fitted, in what we 
should succeed,’’ said Mollie. 

“In that you love you will succeed. 

But to my words you must give heed. 

Do well the tasks that come to hand. 

And first you’ll follow, then, command F* 

Then she questioned each as to her espe- 
cial ambition. 

^‘What wish lies nearest to your heart, 

dear child,” she said to Flossie, to which 

dear Flossie replied : 

“I’ve no talent save to bless 
Those I love with tenderness.” 


TEE FAIRY PLAY 


209 


To this the fairy replied : 

‘‘Cultivate your tender art; 

You and love shall never part/’ 

And you? What is your wish?’’ ques- 
tioned the fairy, laying her hand upon Tess 
Haughton’s arm. 

“I’d like to be the most admired girl in 
the world,” declared Tess, and the lines so 
nearly expressed the wish of her own selfish 
heart that she blushed as she spoke them. 

“Be always kind, be always true, 

The world will love and honor you.” 

That was not exactly what the speaker of 
the lines had wished, but she had to be satis- 
fied with the advice that the fairy gave. 

“And you, dear one? What do you wish to do? 

Be sure I’ll answer your heart’s question, too.” 

‘ ‘ Oh, I know what my wish is, in advance, 

’Tis that I may professionally dance,” 

were Nancy’s lines. 


210 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


“Dance for me, dear; I soon can tell, 

If for the dance you’re fitted well,” 

responded the fairy, and Nancy did her 
best, to the wild delight of the pupils, who 
clapped their hands, and shouted with de- 
light. 

Mr. War dwell instead of rebuking them 
for their noisy demonstration, joined in the 
wild applause that brought an encore. The 
parts had been assigned to those who could 
best fill them, and who could have so well 
impersonated the little dancer as Nancy ? 

The first number had been a simple little 
dance, and she had run from the stage at its 
finish, but the applause had continued, and 
she now returned with her toe-dancer’s slip- 
pers on her feet. With grace and skill she 
did the lovely figures that Bonfanti had 
taught her, and when it was finished the 


TEE FAIRY PLAY 


211 


cheers of her audience were louder than be- 
fore. 

Mr. Wardwell touched the bell, and when 
the din had lulled so that he could make him- 
self heard, he said : 

^^We have all enjoyed Nancy’s fine dan- 
cing, and she generously gave, as an encore, 
another number, more elaborate, more diffi- 
cult than the first. To ask, by continued ap- 
plause for yet another would be presuming. 
Let the play go on.” 

Next the fairy learned that Mollie longed 
to excel in music, and Mollie admitted that 
she was unwilling to practice. 

“Without effort naught is done, 

You must work, and you alone 
Can so struggle for the prize 
That your hopes you will realize.’^ 

It was Inez’s turn to be questioned. 


212 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


‘‘I’d like to be queen of society,” she said. 

’Tis a role that you can fill, 

If you enter with a will. 

But if social life you choose, 

There are greater things you 11 lose.’^ 

‘‘Now, Katie, child, tell me your heart’s desire 
Believe me, I will help you to acquire. ’ ’ 

“I’ve no especial gift. What shall I do? 

I know not what to choose. Oh, help me to. ’ ’ 

“Take every task that comes, and do it well. 

And some day you will know where you excel. ’ ’ 

Turning to the group, the fairy extended 
her hands. 

“Now, I bless you, one and all, 

I responded to your call. 

And I wish you all success, 

Joy, and peace and happiness. ” 

The girls gazed at the place in the shrub- 
bery where she had disappeared. 

“I tell you, girls, the fairy spoke truly. 
If we wish to succeed in whatever we under- 


TEE FAIRY PLAY 


213 


take, we’ll have to work with a will, and I, 
for one, intend to,” said Mollie. 

“Once more in the mystic ring, 

Fairy, fairy, lightly spring. 

Lead us as we march away, 

On this, our graduation day.” 

At their call, Dorothy reappeared, spring- 
ing into the center of the ring. 

“Now follow me, and thou shalt see, 

Success will ever follow thee.” 

The orchestra played a fine march, and 
led by Dorothy, the fairy queen, they 
marched from the hall. 

It was a pretty play, and the girls had 
done creditably. 

The audience was delighted, and as they 
left the school the pupils talked first of 
those who had taken part, and of their 
clever performance, and then of the play 
itself. 


214 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


‘‘Do you believe that any one who will 
strive for success will win it?’’ questioned 
one of the boys, as Mr. Wardwell overtook 
them on the way home. 

“Let me ask it another way,” said a slen- 
der youth who was nearest the teacher. 

“Well, ask the question in your way?” 
was the ready response. 

“I’ll ask> sir, if every one of those who 
try is bound to win success?” 

“Certainly not,” the teacher replied, 
“but many who sincerely strive will win out. 
Now let me ask a question. How many of 
those who do not try will win a prize of any 
sort ? Is there anything under the sun that 
is worth having that can be won without ef- 
fort?” 

They saw the point. 

“The little play that the girls gave has set 
me thinking,” said the laziest boy in the 


THE FAIRY PLAY 


215 


class, ^^and I don’t know if I’ll always keep 
it up, but for a month I’m going to work at 
my studies, and see what I can do.” 

‘‘Well spoken, Herrington, and I proph- 
esy that if you will work for a month, you 
will be so astonished* at the progress that you 
have made, that you will leave your idle 
days behind you, and continue to work,” 
said the teacher. 

The girls had been quite as favorably im- 
pressed, and more than one declared her in- 
tention of being a worker from that day 
forth. 

Dorothy, with her costume in a suitcase, 
walked along the avenue between Nancy and 
Mollie, Flossie clinging to Mollie, and 
eagerly listening while the others talked. 

“I’ll have to practice now,” said Mollie, 
“for after what the fairy said I’d be 


ashamed not to.” 


216 DOROTHY’S NEW FRIENDS 


‘‘And I’ll try harder than ever to be 
kind,” Flossie said, in an odd little voice. 

“Why, you don’t have to try to do that, 
because you’re always just dear,” said Mol- 
lie. 

“I’m the one with the quick temper who 
has to try, and try, and try again to guard 
my tongue, for I love you all, and rarely 
mean any hasty thing I say.” 

“That’s right. Miss Pussy,” cried a teas- 
ing voice. It was Sidney Merrington who 
had twisted one of Mollie’s curls in school, 
and Mollie had called him a “torment.” 

“Am I a torment, Mollie?” he asked, as 
he lingered at her gate when the other girls 
had gone. 

Mollie hesitated. 

“Am I? Mollie, I wish you’d take that 
back. I know I teased you, but the curl at 
the end of your braid looked so round and 


TEE FAIRY PLAY 


217 


shiny, I couldn’t help twisting it, and then 
tweaking it a little. 

‘‘I don’t do things that are really mean,” 
he pleaded in self-defense, ^‘and, MoUie, I’m 
going to be a good pupil after this. I’ll not 
see you at the head of the class, and I at the 
foot. From now on, Mollie, I’m determined 
to be a worker.” 

‘‘Well, — I’ll not say you weren^t a tor- 
ment, but if you stop teasing me. I’ll say 
you’re not one now, and, Sidney, if at first 
the Arithmetic puzzles you. I’ll help you. 
There, Sidney Herrington, isn’t that fair?” 

“It’s fair, Mollie, and you’re a trump ! I 
[can work now like a Trojan. Watch me and 
see how I stick to the work, and winl” 


CHAPTEE XII 


ANTICIPATION 

N ancy was sitting upon the stone wall, 
dreaming of the new experience of 
going away to a fine, large school, and living 
under the roof with so many girls, some of 
them younger than herself, some older, 
many of them the same age as herself and 
Dorothy. 

These latter would be her classmates, and 
as they would each be a representative of a 
fine family, each would doubtless be charm- 
ing. It was a fine outlook, truly, and if only 
it would prove to be correct, the year at 
^‘Glenmore” would surely be delightful. 

It was early in June, and all the world 
seemed singing. 


218 


ANTICIPATION 


219 


Dorothy had been sitting beside her, but 
had gone up to the house for a book that both 
intended to read. Often they read together, 
and then later they would enjoy talking over 
the chapters that unfolded the story, and dis- 
cuss the doings of hero and heroine, maid 
and page. 

A butterfly fluttered over the wall, and to 
watch him, Nancy turned from the avenue, 
changing her position so as to admire the gor- 
geous wings as they waved, up and down, 
taking the slender body up, up, so high above 
the crimson rose that it could sail slowly 
down, to nestle among the scented petals. 

‘^Hello!” 

Nancy started, and a harsh, grating laugh 
told her before she turned, who had come. 

‘‘What a silly to jmnp like that!” cried 
Arabella. “Who d’you think I was? A 
tramp?” 


220 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


‘‘Of course not,” Nancy replied, with 
spirit, “but any girl who did not know that 
any one was near, would be a bit surprised 
to hear a voice close to her ear.” 

“Well, perhaps so,” Arabella admitted, 
because she did not wish so to offend Nancy 
that she would feel unfriendly toward her. 
She was dull and slow in many ways, but she 
knew quite enough of school life, to know 
that at the beginning of the school year, it 
would be exceedingly pleasant to have the 
friendship of Dorothy and Nancy. 

She was slow to make friends, and in a 
large school she knew that there would be 
plenty of strangers. 

Yes, surely it would be wise to be on good 
terms with Nancy and her dear Dorothy. 

“I was thinking of the new school, Glen- 
more, and I was thinking, it would be easy 


ANTICIPATION 


221 


to get Patricia to go, — well, how funny you 
look. Don’t you know you’d not care to go 
to Glenmore, well, I mean you’d not care 
near as much, if Dorothy wasn’t with you? 
If there wasn’t another girl there that you 
liked, you’d be happy because you had Dor- 
othy.” 

‘‘I know,” responded Nancy. 

‘‘Well, then, why wouldn’t I be glad if 
Patricia was there to be a chum for me ? I 
can’t get acquainted easily, and I’d like one 
girl there that I knew.” 

Nancy saw it clearly now. It was just as 
Arabella said, only that Arabella did not 
know the reason for her unpopularity. 

She was naturally unsocial, almost un- 
friendly. She made free to criticise, she 
was quick to condemn, and rarely did she 
say a pleasant word of any one. 


222 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


She was extremely selfish, and appeared 
more like a little old woman, than like the 
school-girl that she was. 

What was there about Arabella Correy- 
ville that was winning 1 

Nancy, with her warm heart, her merry 
way, her winning smile, would have had a 
dozen friends during the first term, and any 
number of pleasant acquaintances, in other 
classes than her own. 

Dorothy Dainty, well-born, and gently 
bred, had found it easy to learn the laws of 
gentleness, kindness, and love. 

Nancy Perris, reared in unlovely sur- 
roundings, had found the path more diffi- 
cult, but her little heart was very warm, and 
when she left the old home behind her, and 
found herself a member of the household at 
the Stone House, she blossomed like a lovely 
fiower that has been longing for love and 


ANTICIPATION 


223 


sunlight. Surrounded by love, invariable 
kindness, and courtesy, she longed to be like 
those whom she so loved and so ardently ad- 
mired. 

will be like these dear, new friends,” 
she often whispered to herself, and she had 
kept the little vow. 

Arabella still stood beside her, silently 
watching her face, and waiting for her to 
speak. Nancy, hoping that shallow, fickle 
Patricia, who so dearly loved to create dis- 
cord, might not be a member of the class, 
made a cautious remark. 

^^She might not be able to join us at Glen- 
more, because her mother might wish her to 
stay in New York. She’s been here with 
her aunt a long time.” 

^‘Oh, that’s easy enough to manage,” Ara- 
bella said. ‘^Patricia will go to Glenmore 
if she wants to. She always does just as she 


224 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


chooses. Know how she manages it? I 
do.’^ 

Without waiting for Nancy to reply, Ara- 
bella continued. 

‘‘First Patricia tells her mother what she 
wants to do, and coaxes if she has to. If 
that doesn’t get permission, then she tells 
her mother that all the girls at Merrivale 
that are anybody, are going to do it, 
and that if she isn’t allowed to do it, all 
Merrivale will think that the Lavines 
couldn^t afford it. That last is sure to 
work.” 

“I wouldn^; want to get what I wished for 
that way,” Nancy said. “I’d want to have 
it because those that I loved were both will- 
ing, and able to let me have it. I’d not 
like forcing them to give it to me, and I’d 
not enjoy it after I got it. ” 

Arabella was in one of her most disagree- 


ANTICIPATION 


225 


able moods, and her reply was just what one 
might have expected from her. 

‘‘Oh, you can easily say that, Nancy Fer- 
ris, because the Daintys are wealthy, and 
give you everything you think of, but if you 
were still living on the worst street in Merri- 
vale, and lived in that horrid old house, and 
wore horrid old clothes, I guess you’d be 
pretty glad to get anything you wanted, and 
get it any way you could. Well, you needn’t 
turn white, and look so hurt, for it’s 
true!” 

“I don’t deny it,” Nancy said bravely, 
although she could not keep her lips from 
trembling. 

Arabella appeared to enjoy the pain that 
she was giving, and, as Nancy seemed unable 
to strike back, she continued. 

“And when they taught you to dance, and 
put you on the stage, you had to live with 


226 DOROTHY^S NEW FRIENDS 


your horrid old uncle, and I guess you 
couldn’t ‘pick and choose’ there.” 

Nancy quailed beneath the lashing of 
Arabella’s tongue. 

“And your mother was nothing but a 
stage-dancer. Tour mother only — ” 

^^Stop!^’ Nancy cried, springing to her 
feet, her dark eyes flashing. 

“You can say any mean thing you like to 
me, but you can’t say one word about my 
mother. She was beautiful, and grace- 
ful, and a wonderful dancer. I have seen 
her picture, and better than everything 
else, she was pure, and true, and 
good. 

“It is said that she never said or did an 
unkind thing in her life, and that is more 
than any one could say of you! 

“Oh, forgive me, Arabella,” Nancy said, 
sinking upon the wall, from which, in anger. 


ANTICIPATION 


227 


she had sprung, “but, — you have been so 
unkind to me.’’ 

Then the most surprising thing happened. 

“I’m sorry,” Arabella said, and no one, 
not even Aunt Matilda, ever had heard her 
say that. 

“Now, go, please do,” Nancy said, “for 
I can’t talk. I’m hurt, and tired.” Turn- 
ing, she lay down upon the wall, her face hid- 
den on her arm. 

She was crying softly. 

Arabella, for once really sorry for what 
she had done, stood awkwardly looking at 
her. She was about to try to say something 
that might comfort, when footsteps ap- 
proaching, made her turn. 

Aunt Charlotte was coming toward them, 
but, for the moment, the trees and shrubbery 
screened the two girls so that she did not 
see them. 


228 DOROTHY’S NEW FRIENDS 


Arabella stole softly away through the 
flowering shrubs, out of the great gateway, 
and up the avenue toward home. 

Aunt Charlotte was startled to find Nancy 
alone upon the wall, her face hidden on her 
arms, her slender form shaken with sobs. 

It was some moments before Nancy was 
sufficiently calm to tell what had happened. 

When the story was at last told, Nancy’s 
eyes were sad, and the tears lay upon her 
dark lashes. 

Aunt Charlotte drew her close. 

‘‘Nancy, my Nancy, I wish that I could 
shield you from every unkind word, but that 
may not be. But, darling,” she continued, 
“much as this grieves you, and grieves me, 
for your sake, I would far rather that you 
should have been thus wounded, than that 
you should be guilty of so mean a thing as 
that which Arabella did. 


ANTICIPATION 


229 


‘^She could not demean you, dear, but she 
has demeaned herself, and I am ashamed for 
her. 

‘^She told you that you once were poor, 
and taunted you regarding your old uncle 
who forced you to dance upon the stage, that 
you might earn for him, the living that he 
was too lazy to earn for himself. 

‘‘Those things meant misfortune, but mis- 
fortune is not disgrace. 

“As to your beautiful mother, you did just 
right to defend her. She was a lovely, and 
lovable woman, talented and successful. 
Not every woman, in private life, is as sweet- 
tempered, upright, and God-fearing as she. 
You did right to defend her from a wicked 
tongue.” 

“I am proud of you, Nancy, and I am 
ashamed of Arabella!” cried Dorothy, rush- 
ing to Nancy, and clasping her in her arms. 


230 DOROTHY’S NEW FRIENDS 


‘‘1 am so happy here in this home, with 
the dearest friends in the world, that any 
one would wonder that I could shed a tear, 
but Arabella’s words were so harsh that they 
were more than I could bear, and I hid my 
face, and asked her to go,” Nancy said. 

In the meantime, Arabella, on a little seat 
in her garden, was, in her slow fashion, 
thinking over w^hat had happened. She had 
spoken truthfully when she had said that 
she was sorry for what she had said. 

She was a sorry for Nancy’s hurt feel- 
ings but far more regretful because she be- 
lieved that Nancy would be less friendly at 
Glenmore because of the morning’s happen- 
ing. 

It was decided that the summer should be 
spent at the Stone House. It was a beauti- 
ful, and luxurious home, where comfort 


ANTICIPATION 


231 


reigned, and during the middle and late 
summer preparations must be made for the 
trip to the West, and also for those things 
that would make comfort for Dorothy and 
Nancy in their new school life at Glenmore. 

The Merrivale boys and girls were glad to 
know that the Stone House would be open 
for the summer. It was enough to know 
that Dorothy and Nancy were to be away at 
school all winter. 

They would make much of them now ! 

Vera wrote racy letters telling how she 
and ‘‘Elf’’ were looking forward to the year 
at Glenmore, and what “barrels of fun” 
they were already planning. 

Arabella felt rather ashamed of her harsh- 
ness with Nancy, and kept apart from her, 
and from Dorothy, whose sympathy, she 
knew, would be entirely with Nancy, as even 
she acknowledged it should be. 


232 DOROTHY’S NEW FRIENDS 


From Tess Haughton they learned that 
Patricia’s name was already on the list of 
new pupils at Glenmore, and Dorothy looked 
at Nancy with such a droll expression upon 
her pretty face that Nancy, with difficulty, 
kept from laughing. Afterward Dorothy 
said: 

‘‘If I looked queer, it was because, for the 
moment, it seemed as if Patricia was ac- 
tually chasing after us.” 

Of the school at Merrivale, they had 
chosen Tess Haughton, and Sidney Her- 
rington as new friends, and Sidney seemed 
the finer character of the two, although Tess 
had a charm that made people prone to over- 
look her faults. The greater munher of pu- 
pils had come from undesirable neighbor- 
hoods, and for this reason, Mrs. Dainty had 
turned to Glenmore, as a fine school, with 
well-bred companions for the coming year. 


ANTICIPATION 


233 


Of the droll doings of Patricia, the strange 
notions of Arabella, of the new schoolmates, 
of the round of fun for which Vera and Elf 
were responsible, one may read in 

‘‘Dorothy Dainty at Glenmore’’ 



















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